Loopholes
by DschingisKhan
Summary: Louise didn't summon a dragon or a loser from another world. No, she summoned a girl from across the yard. How humiliating! But why is Tabitha agreeing to be her familiar? And how many teenage girls does it take to destabilise a geopolitical region anyway?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I've almost assuredly butchered many aspects of Zero no Tsukaima including, but not limited to: characters, characterisation, plot progression, causality and related timey-wimey stuff, and monogamy. I'm not sorry. Though I will admit that this is gay. Very gay, even. Like, it's all coming up gay and I really, honestly didn't expect that to happen. But I'm not complaining, not really- after all, it can't be any worse than the canon relationships.

Prologue: Mornings

Another day, just like any other. It was morning, the sun just peeking through the gap in the curtains to disturb the slumber of a petite pink-haired girl: one Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière. Eventually giving in to the futility of continued attempts at sleep with the insistent warmth of the local star shining on her back, her eyes fluttered open to the sight of...

Cleavage. Cleavage as far as the eye could see at a distance of three inches; bountiful breasts barely contained by the racy, lacy red negligee of one Kirche Augusta Frederica von Anhalt-Zerbst, a shameless scoundrel of a woman as far as she was concerned.

Barely lucid enough to make sense of the situation, she noted with groggy embarrassment that, more than just close, they were twined together- arms loosely around one another and legs tangled. _It's really quite warm,_ she decided, _really takes the chill out of the morning air._ But she was sure something felt off about the situation. With all the mental clarity of a sailor on leave, she muttered a not-quite-question:

"How did this happen."

Still trapped in Kirche's judo embrace, Louise felt rather than saw the third occupant of the bed roll over and attach to her back, unconsciously spooning into her like a large, blue-haired limpet. _Oh, that's what was off._ Clarity coming with wakefulness, the pieces reluctantly fell into an orderly line.

"Right, like I could forget." Sighing lightly, she surrendered the thought of leaving the three-girl pileup that was her bed and closed her eyes in reflection. "What was I even thinking, making Tabitha my familiar?"

The merry sun ignored this question and continued its daily ascent.

"...Hm, this is actually a bit _too_ warm."


	2. Summoning Day

Chapter 1: Summoning Day

A low murmur rolled through the crowd as it became clear the figure standing in the cloud of smoke was none other than the taciturn triangle mage who sat in the back of every class. Was this a trick? A play to make herself look good? But why would the indifferent Tabitha play along with it, were they secretly close? Of the assembled, only Kirche and Jean Colbert picked up on the signs of surprise in her expression.

"Unexpected."

Tabitha was unharmed by the huge explosion that accompanied her appearance, but the same couldn't be said for the courtyard where the Spring familiar summoning took place. She stood in a shallow depression nearly fifteen mail across and two deep that seemed to be simply _gone._ She couldn't see any debris falling, either. Curious.

Louise, for her part, had the good grace to vacillate between happiness at summoning anything at all, confusion at summoning a _human_ of all things, and panic at the tremendous _faux pas_ of summoning a **_noble_**. Eventually, sufficiently rebooted, she turned to the bald professor Colbert with an expression that said, "By His holy name what have I done, please tell me you know what to do about this, because I'm lost." The gathered crowd awkwardly feeding itself baseless rumours fell quiet as he hesitantly stepped forward.

"Louise," he finally addressed warmly, "you've summoned a fine familiar... is what I'd like to say. However, as powerful and versatile as she is, I think you'll agree that we can't rightly expect young Tabitha to-"

"You may proceed."

"-accede to... Tabitha, dear, are you... are you quite sure? To be bound to Miss Vallière is a permanent thing, doubtless you understand?"

"Correct." Colbert took a moment to reappraise her. Stepping closer, he lowered his voice so no one else could hear.

"You _are_ aware that we, er, really don't know what effects this will have on you, I presume? That is, this may well affect your mind in ways we're unable to predict, to the point where some scholars believe it compels, at length, obedience and adoration of your master..." He trailed off, desire for academic rigour losing the battle with discomfort at the suggestion that the ritual might not be entirely benevolent.

"...Acceptable." _Brimir's knees, she's serious!_ Turning slightly to face Louise, she continued with her usual monotone, "I will be in your care."

"...I see. Then... then I suppose, if you please, Miss Vallière?"

Eyes wide and nodding numbly, Louise ambled over to stand before her... summon. Up close, the bespectacled poker face was every bit as impenetrable as she expected. It was when she made eye contact that she was transfixed by the hardness of Tabitha's stare and the doubt seed she had nurtured through this whole surreal ordeal blossomed.

 _What am I doing, we barely even know one another, why is she taking this in stride? Is...is this really okay?_ As though reading her surface thoughts, Tabitha's head inclined in a slight nod answering the unspoken question and snapping her out of her downward spiral. _That's right, I can see the Steel in her. She's not going with the flow. What can I do but answer in kind?_ Bravado, it turns out, can take a girl far.

Squaring her shoulders, a suddenly much more confident Louise raised her wand, recited the incantation, and stepped forward to place a chaste kiss upon Tabitha's lips.

* * *

It's the sort of moment that sticks with a girl, her first kiss. Most girls have fantasies about it being some fairy tale moment. Louise at least expected it to be a happy occasion. Of course, reality abhors the intentions of fierce little girls with unnaturally rosy hair, so Louise's first kiss was with a girl she had never spoken to at a solemn and sacred ceremony a few minutes prior in the presence of a jeering jury of her so-called peers. One might say it kind of sucked.

 _It sucks almost as much as knowing nothing about her. She kind of reminds me of a mouse with how quiet she is, but I had better... open negotiations?_ Before she could work out why that seemed wrong, her stomach created some much needed inspiration in the form of demands for sustenance. _Ah, maybe we can bond a little over an early lunch! Here goes nothing..._ Louise stopped as they passed through an inner garden and turned to face her new... just what kind of relationship were they to have?

"So! Uhm... Tabitha..."

"Yes, master?" Louise flinched at the address.

"Ugh, okay, first off, _please_ don't call me that. We may not know each other well, and you may _technically_ be my familiar, but I... I r... re... I respect you, okay!? You're also a noble and your grades are as good as mine, and you're a triangle while I've only ever cast two spells successfully in my life! I want... uh, that is, err..." Despite the stern beginning, her affect broke halfway through her rant, "...because Brimir wills our fates be intertwined, I would like it if we could be... friends? I-i-if you're okay with that, that is..." she finished in a small voice, cheeks flushed redder than her hair at what she had just let slip. Had she been looking at Tabitha rather than the intricate stonework pattern of the garden walkway, she may or may not have registered an unusual expression of surprise there.

"Okay." Jerking her head up to meet the composed visage of red frames framed by blue hair, her small face lit up with a dazzling sincere smile, tears coming unbidden to the corners of her eyes.

This was Tabitha's first glimpse of not just one but two facets of the proud pink-maned puzzle that had never been shown in public. _Maybe_ , she mused, _maybe this won't be so bad. Rather, what is this adorable creature?_ Unaware of the revelation that had just played out before her familiar _cum_ new friend, Louise pressed on.

"A-a-anyway, you can just call me Louise!"

"Okay... Louise." Trying it out for the first time earned her another one of those genuine smiles she'd only just discovered. She decided she liked those.

* * *

Their lunch had been mostly spent in companionable silence, though Tabitha surprised her by not spending it all with her nose trapped in a book. And by putting away enough food to feed...

"Tabitha, you aren't secretly a dragon, are you? Like, maybe you're a dragon in disguise! Did I summon the last of the rhyme dragons? That would be... hehe, just kidding." There was no verbal response, and she wasn't at all versed in her friend's brand of expressive non-expression after a scant couple hours, but Tabitha's "stop smoking locoweed"-face was pretty easy to figure out when it was directed at her. Forcing a half-chuckle half-cough, she stood from the small table they had procured for the warm courtyard, near the actual dragon napping in the sun. "Anyway, I have studying to do, so I'll be in the library if you need me."

"Feeding time."

"Ah, Sylphid. He? She?"

"She."

"Right, you're going with her to make sure she stays out of trouble, I take it?"

"Correct."

"Well then, I suppose I'll see you later. Probably tomorrow morning, I guess."

That was what she had thought, at any rate. Several hours later, she came back to her room in a state of mild disaster. Looking closer, it was pretty clear all the disaster-stuff was not _her_ disaster-stuff. ( _That_ was probably all still under the bed.)

"Uh, Tabitha? Why are you... Are you moving into my room?"

"Superior roosting position."

"I-I mean, I know we have a somewhat different relationship than before, and you're my f...friend, so it's not like I really- What?"

"Top floor. Balcony." Tabitha crossed to the far side of the room and the threw open the doors as if to illustrate her point.

"I... see? Okay, no, I really don't get-" Making her way hesitantly around the oversized four-poster bed that dominated the centre of the room as she said this, she was cut off by a blast of wind that blew her back onto the plush mattress.

Shaking away the surprise, she righted herself to the sight of a disheveled Tabitha quietly scolding a wind dragon large enough to partially overflow the sizable balcony.

"Oh."

#AN: The roosting bit was actually the very first scene I thought of (roughly half a year ago), though not quite the first I wrote. It's also apocryphal, as I believe canon has Tabitha on the fifth floor; Kirche next door to Louise on the third. How tall are the towers? Whatever, Louise is higher up this time. Lord Duke's daughter and all that.

Oh yes, concerning updates: There is no schedule. I'm shooting for "soon", but I can neither confirm nor deny living in Valve Time. It's somewhat at the mercy of inspiration, for while I _do_ have a decent amount written, it's all over the place in terms chronology and I have some very important decisions yet to make.


	3. Unfamiliar Familiar Comforts

#AN: I've been agonising over a slight paradox I created for myself this last week. I _am_ very much a character writer, and it's easy for me to become absorbed in the inspiration without a mind for how it actually all fits together. But inspiration isn't serial like (most) stories, so I had to figure out how to tie some things together.

* * *

Chapter 2: Unfamiliar Familiar Comforts

For Tabitha, it may not have held any particular significance but to Louise, sleeping in the same bed with another person was completely outside the realm of normal. What exactly was one to do in this sort of situation? Was there protocol? Or some kind of ritual? Tracing back to her memories of being childhood playmate for Princess Henrietta, she vaguely recalled nights spent huddled under cover, giggling quietly about this or that. Her royal friend was usually the one leading the conversation, she recalled guiltily.

... Which made it something of a bum lead, then. She hadn't exactly figured out how to... converse with her familiar, just yet (and she had never been one for small talk in any case) so the usual standards of sleepover girl talk were simply not applicable. Consequently, it was a bit awkward for her, and the nagging thoughts kept her awake long after Tabitha's breathing had slowed to the gentle cadence of deep slumber.

Until the nightmare took hold. Slight at first, the shock of short blue hair became increasingly agitated, moaning in a small voice foreign to anyone familiar with her daytime demeanour.

"...Mama!" A plaintive call to action, answered by Louise immediately at her side, shaking her shoulder and calling her insistently.

"Tabitha! Wake up, you're having a nightmare!" The body stiffened as she was brought violently from the spectre that haunted her. "Thank goodness, are you okay? You..." Tabitha clearly wasn't okay. Though Louise couldn't see her face, it was obvious that she was tense with a kind of dread that haunted her even in consciousness. Her body shook like a leaf in the wind.

"Oh, Tabitha... it'll be okay. I'm... I'm here with you." Matching deed to word, she hesitantly took her bed mate into a hug from behind, trying to ignore the strength of the trembling form in her arms. It wasn't something the youngest of three was used to, channeling the mannerisms of her sweet sister Cattleya, but it was all she could think of.

"Easy now, you're safe, I'm here for you. The nightmare has passed. Let's go back to sleep and have sweet dreams this time." Holding Tabitha close with one arm, Louise used the other to stroke her hair and massage the tension from bunched muscles, cooing her support all the while. Eventually, the quivering eased a bit, though Tabitha didn't seem inclined to return to her slumber. _Ah, so this is what it's like. Sorry for all the lost sleep, sister. Guess I'll try what she always did..._

"I'm going to get you something that should help. I'll be back in just a moment, okay?" Gingerly, she disengaged from Tabitha and walked from the room, flagging down the first servant she saw to fetch what her familiar; what her _friend_ needed. Her orders dispatched, she crawled back into the bed and resumed her vigil of soothing.

Tabitha still hadn't said anything, but it was clear she was awake. _Brooding? What could she be thinking about? Does she want to talk about it? Would that help?_ Before Louise could give voice to the thought, the servant broke the quiet stillness of the bedroom bearing the ultimate curative for a distraught child suffering from her dream:

A mug of warm milk.

Louise received it, absently dismissing the maid, and carefully proffered it at Tabitha.

"Now, now, no need to be sad anymore; the bad dream has flown away. Let's just drink this right up before it cools!" She chuckled a little at her own affect. "...or so my sister Cattleya always said. But it _did_ always help me years ago, so I thought... you know..." She gave silent thanks that Tabitha couldn't see her small blush of embarrassment in the faint moonlight.

Hesitantly accepting the offering, she took a sip. And then another. And a longer draw. Louise stifled a giggle at the profile and waited patiently for her to finish, relishing the tranquility that had descended once again on her bed. Eventually, she was able to place the empty cup on the nightstand and pulled the sleepy prodigy back into her arms to soothe away the last of whatever badness lingered. The silence was broken again when Tabitha finally spoke.

"The nightmare hasn't ended," the quaver in her voice betrayed that she had been quietly crying, "but thank you, Louise." Louise froze then, thoughts racing as she considered how to interpret what may have been the longest utterance she had ever heard from her familiar.

 _Hasn't ended...? Oh no, is this because of the contract? What have I done, have I unwittingly forced her to bear this terrible burden?_ The silence grew uneasy and she had the odd impression that if she didn't say something soon... the consequences were as vague as the feeling, but it helped spur her to a decision. _If that's it... No, even if it's something else, I have to support her. That's the sort of relationship we have._

"Always, Tabitha," she whispered. "You can depend on me." Whether that admonishment was heard or not, Louise wasn't sure, but she did appear to be sleeping soundly.

 _No matter. I'll say it again if you didn't hear me,_ she resolved. Worn by the unfamiliar task of supporting someone else, the diminutive mage soon drifted off, still holding Tabitha close.

* * *

Though neither of them spoke of what had transpired in the morning, Louise had a feeling she understood her familiar slightly better. Waking up to the piercing stare of her living, breathing Tabitha hug-pillow was startling, yes, but her worry that things would become more uncomfortable between them appeared unfounded.

 _Actually, I think things are less awkward now than they were_ _yesterday._ She considered the thought. _Well, that's_ _not saying much. Still..._ Furtively, she glanced to her left where her familiar - _Friend! She's my friend! -_ was... mumbling(?) something to her own familiar on the balcony. _Is she... I guess it's not a smile, but is she... less... frowny? Is that even a word?_

Realising she had transitioned from stealthy to staring, she hastily finished dressing in her spare uniform and made a note to have her clothes laundered and the pile of hay disposed of. _Maybe I should see about a handmaiden. After breakfast._ Catching Tabitha's eye, she gestured at the door. And held out a hand.

"Shall we, then?"

"Yes." While she didn't _sound_ excited, Louise grinned anyway when Tabitha took her hand.


	4. In Which Louise is a Little Pent Up

#AN: I originally thought all of this to be part of the previous chapter, but some edits happened and I decided this split worked better. Also, the whole Guiche part is actually the most recent chunk I've written. Only took me five months to figure out what would happen! Now, if I could just figure out the fallout from it...

* * *

Chapter 3: In Which Louise is a Little Pent Up

Intellectually, Louise knew contracting Tabitha as a familiar meant that damnable vixen, Kirche, was going to be a larger factor in her life than ever before. What she didn't count on was the manner.

"What's this, Zero? Pulling rank to take advantage of my dear, sweet Tabitha already? Such a _beast!_ " Naturally, they had been ambushed just outside Louise's door. Louise hadn't even said anything yet and the sex torch was already wrapped around Tabitha, pulling them apart to hold her in mocking protectiveness.

Yes, intellectually, she may have been resigned to this unpleasant association, but rationality was never really a safe bet when Kirche was involved. Indignation, though?

"What the hell, Zerbst! Can't I get a break from your rubbish for just one day?" But Kirche didn't miss a beat.

"Ah, but I do wonder..." detaching from her old friend, she began a slow circle, appraising Louise from every angle. "...what _is_ it about you Vallière? It's not normal, you know.

"Summoning an explosion elemental or a hydrazine golem, I could see. One good boom deserves another, right?" She chuckled humorlessly at her own joke. "But no, you - you who has never cast a single spell properly in her life - summoned my best friend as your _familiar_. Have you ever heard of such a thing in your life?"

Mesmerised by the cadence of Kirche's footfalls and the equally dangerous and seductive note in her voice, Louise emitted a surprised squeak when Kirche stepped in to grapple her from behind, hands coming to rest on her breast and inner thigh. She was struck dumb by the heady perfume and soft- er, softness of her nemesis.

"No, it's not normal at all," she purred, "You've caught my interest... Louise." Was it a threat? A promise? Before Louise could even muster a reaction, the hands, the soft pressure on her back, and the hot breath in her ear were all gone; Kirche had returned to her usual boisterous self.

"Why, would you look at the time! We're late for breakfast; best get moving, my lovelies!"

And just like that, she was gone with only the faint hint of smoke on the air and a ragged Louise as evidence the Zerbst scion had ever been there in the first place.

"That was really disturbing," she remarked once she had composed herself. Dimly, she was aware that she'd had an audience. One who she was trying to call friend. "Hey, she's your friend, right? I really wouldn't have minded a hand back there..." Looking up from the book she had pulled out, Tabitha fixed her with a stare that she imagined said "Do I look like I place so little value on my personal space?" and mumbled but a single word in response:

"Unstoppable."

It was telling that the first clear emotion she caught on Tabitha's face was most probably an expression of trauma.

"Oh boy, I have a headache and classes haven't even started yet."

* * *

The sidelong glances were the worst, she decided. At least the ones who stared were willing to _own_ their gawking. And the ones who pointedly looked away were unwittingly doing a favour. But the fumbling failures of discretion practically shouted "I'm totally looking at you, but I don't want to be honest about it because I'm a twit!"

The walk to their morning meal was their first chance to really observe how the rest of the student body would react. They would later agree the current verdict was "as awkwardly as humanly possible". They disrupted conversations simply by passing and, though no one had the audacity to approach them, they definitely had everyone's attention. Louise was not enjoying fame. But what Louise lacked in stature, she made up in boldness.

"Let them watch, Tabitha. They're just a bunch of dumb kids anyway."

The dining hall did not fall silent upon their entry, to their great relief. Louise really didn't feel like enduring the spotlight any more than she usually did, and the morning was already off to a stressful start. Making to move toward her customary edge table, she was stalled by a hand on her shoulder. Ignoring the flurry of hushed whispers over the gesture at a nearby table, she turned, her eyes tracing the impinging arm back to its owner, and raised an eyebrow.

"Dine outside?" It was an innocuous suggestion, but after her encounter with Kirche, some fresh air did sound awfully nice...

 _Am I really that easy to read? Or is this some familiar weirdness?_ The nearby chatter became more urgent, and for once it made her distinctly uncomfortable.

"Good idea. Can you find us a nice spot? I'm... ah, that is, I actually need to freshen up a bit real quick." It was a snap decision. She doubled back, darting out of the hall and into the nearby washroom to rein in her crumbling composure without even waiting for Tabitha's tiny nod of assent. A few minutes later, she stepped back into the dining hall with her usual noble bearing only to find herself staring at the back of every head.

Working her way around the perimeter of the crowd, she heard the spectacle before she saw it: shrill whining and angry girls.

 _Guiche is getting an early start this week._ She sighed at the banality of his philandering. _Though it_ does _let me avoid the attention myself._

Her relief was short-lived, as she heard a familiar voice in the ruckus.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Gramont, but I could never have known this would happen!" The language was respectful, but pregnant with fear.

 _That's... the one from last night?_ _Maybe this isn't his usual girl problem?_

"Be silent, wretch! Your irresponsible actions have brought two delicate ladies to tears."

 _\- Or, he could just be dragging innocent peons into his own idiocy._ She hesitated. _Am I really about to get involved in this? "Foremost, a noble protects the innocent!" ...guess I don't have much of a choice._ Groaning, she pushed through the crowd to survey the scene.

A curly-haired blonde - _bimbo -_ was in a teary-eyed stare-and-growl match with a younger - _gullible first-year_ \- brunette over the round table. Anyone who had been at the table had long since vacated it, leaving their meals and wine behind. A couple of his - _spineless_ \- hangers-on were still in the area, appearing conflicted but not enough to intervene. And in the centre of it all, Guiche de Gramont, fourth - _idiot_ \- son of a respectable General, was red with rage, hovering ominously over a terrified black-bobbed maid.

 _As I thought. Okay, Louise, remember: "Foremost, a noble is responsible for their actions." He's not. You have the high ground._ Taking a deep breath, she loudly cut into the ongoing tirade.

"Ah, you there, maid! I need you to attend us as we break our fast. Retrieve repast for two and bring it to the terrace." All sound ceased as she took the centre of attention. Even the stupid girls broke their dominance ritual to stare. She narrowed her eyes to see that Guiche had frozen with his hand raised to strike the servant. "Well? What are you waiting for? Go on! I hunger!"

Failing entirely at discreetly wiping her eyes and not quite concealing her sniffles, she scurried off to do what as she was told. Nodding once, Louise rounded on the idiot.

"You have a lot of nerve, pretending you're not responsible for your own loose morals. And look at yourself! Poised to hit a defenceless girl because of your own poor life choices. How superbly manly." Shaking her head in mock sorrow, she slowly sauntered closer to him.

"Was there something wrong with your birth? Is that why you can't even follow the simplest tenets of common decency and instead skulk about at night, flirting with any pretty face? Ah, how pitiable it is that the good General de Gramont's youngest brings nothing but shame to the family!" Having closed the distance to stand before him, she turned to the table and grabbed a goblet of wine and took a sip.

"Really, it's far too early for this nonsense." She looked back up to see the blonde boy shaking, eyes dilated and a rictus grin on his face. She would question later why she did it, but in the moment, it seemed like a great idea.

"Oh yes, one last thing!" She threw the remaining wine in his face and shouted, "You're a _ **two-timing** **pig!**_ " Ignoring his sputtering, she began to stalk toward the terrace, the eerily quiet crowd parting before her.

"Where do you think you're going, Vallière? Do you really expect me to bear this insult without retort?" Guiche, at least, had finally found his voice. What a pity. She paused to look over her shoulder at his seething.

"I'm _going_ to breakfast," she ground out. "And I _expect_ you to take responsibility for your own actions as a true noble ought!" She began to move again.

"Zero! I demand satisfaction from you!"

"Demand satisfaction from your hand."

"No, I won't allow this outrage! I challenge you to a duel!"

"Student dueling is prohibited, are you a moron?"

"Oh, like you're even a student anyway, _Zero_." She froze. Taking this as a sign, he continued. "Everyone _knows_ all your spells blow up on you. It was _very_ clever of you to pay another student to pretend you'd summoned her, but I've got you figured out!" The people near Louise unconsciously began to back away, as her shoulders slumped and her whole body quivered.

"It's a truly impressive ruse, my dear," he crowed, "but it's still just that: a ruse. And to think, the likes of you had the sheer unparalleled _audacity_ to lecture _moi_ on nobility!" She was shaking visibly now, whispering. "What was that? I can't hear your apologies if you're that quiet. You need to speak up and look your betters in the eye when you address them." Not breaking her monologue, she turned to face him so he could finally understand what Louise was... growling?

"... and so what if I can only make explosions, it's not like it's my fault, you probably think I've been a lazy lout like you, but I bet you've never spent all day in the woods wearing yourself half to death with attempts to make even a simple cantrip work correctly, I've never seen you in the library when I've been scouring the most advanced books I can find for even the mere semblance of documented record of anything like me, you probably don't even know this place has a library, you've never worked for your magic, you've never bled for your magic, yet you dare... you _dare_ to say that my _one_ accomplishment - the _only_ one! - is a lie!?" Finally looking at him as he requested, he realised her face was a mask of ice cold iron over a rolling boil of bitter anger where he had thought to see crushed weeping. Involuntarily, he stepped back and slipped on her discarded goblet from earlier, landing roughly on his rear.

"Yes, that's right! Fall back, coward! Even if I had no magic at all, you would never measure up to me because even without it, at least I have dignity! Attacking the sacred bond we share might even be forgivable if you didn't insult my friend with your baseless accusations! One day. Just one measly day, I wanted to enjoy the little piece of happiness that I finally managed to carve out of the constant struggle to have some small proof that my efforts haven't been in vain..." Louise really was crying now, letting far more out in this tirade than anyone present had ever heard.

"But you. _You_. You would _deny me this!?_ " Straightening her stance as though she were delivering the high courts judgement, she drew her wand and practically roared, **_"Cur! I will flay the flesh from your useless bones and commission a doily from that ridiculous mop you call your coiffure!"_**

Before she could make good on her threat, another figure materialised at her side and a dainty hand pushed her wand back down.

"Louise. Stop." It was Tabitha. Panting from the exertion of her tirade and the dissipation of willpower she had gathered for a truly deserved explosion, she could only watch as Tabitha walked over to the terrified boy, conspicuously stepping around a puddle of what might have been his urine. She looked down at him and offered a hand, helping him back to his feet. It took every ounce of her remaining self control to remain standing, to not give in to the despair that washed over her as her only friend at the academy betr-

"Fop." Guiche acquired a third reddening welt as Tabitha slapped him with all the deceptive strength she could muster. Turning back, Louise could see her properly for the first time. She looked... normal. Ordinary, unflappable Tabitha. Almost. She hadn't had much time to learn her subtle mannerisms and tics, but something about the Tabitha before her now screamed "You bet your ass I'm beyond pissed!" Very quietly, but it was still screaming. She wondered for a moment if any of the other people around could tell.

...Oh. Right. The crowd. The spell that had held everyone rapt broke then, and a cacophony of mixed impressions hit her like a solid wall of force. She didn't fall over from the onslaught only because she had locked up (and turned very red). Tabitha stepped up, her expression softening ever-so-slightly as she filled Louise's field of vision.

"Food. Come." Nonplussed, Louise allowed herself to be led out the door by the hand as she wondered if she had really seen the ghost of a smile on her friend's impassive face.


	5. It's Not Fraternity if We're Both Girls!

Chapter 4: It's Not Fraternity if We're Both Girls

Three days - well, nights really, but three of them still - since she had managed her very first magical success. Aside from the... fracas... in the dining hall-

"After that, all the students have left us well enough alone, haven't they?" She considered for a moment before nodding in affirmation. "I think it's actually an improvement over the time before the summoning."

She recalled the immediate aftermath, when she had been nearly catatonic at the jumble of confusing emotions that scene had kindled within her. She had well and truly lost herself in anger and despair, and the sting of that failure was still fresh, an open wound on her pride.

 _Tabitha helped a lot, though. She didn't even act any different; just having her on my side... what an uncanny difference it makes. And yes, now I'm sure things have improved: I haven't received a juvenile taunt in two whole days! And that's even when Tabitha isn't around!_ She started as she realised she was having a conversation with herself when she was actually here for a reason.

"Grrr, I need to stop stalling and just get this over with."

-but yes, apart from The Guiche Incident, she was quickly falling into something that resembled a routine: wake up, eat, maybe blow something up in class-

 _My first and, apparently_ last _success in magic,_ she thought bitterly. _Is that it, then? Just magical enough to summon a familiar and receive "Zero" as my official runic name?_ She scoffed.

-study for a few hours, fail to find anything-

"But I _did_ succeed," she groused, "there's no way I can give up searching now! Foremost: a noble faces adversity with steel in her heart!"

-return to room, go to bed, guide Tabitha through another night terror...

 _You're stalling._ The little voice of reason reminded her she was here at this particular third-floor door for a reason. Damn that persistent voice, it was right.

Such an untenable situation couldn't continue; couldn't be allowed to _become_ routine. And so, though she was loath to admit it, Louise needed advice. Advice from the enemy.

"Aaah, this is gonna be a disaster! A Vallière asking for advice from a Zerbst! About dealing with _people_ , of all things!"

Despite her misgivings, she no longer felt like she had a choice. She sighed heavily.

"I need to know more, and this insufferable harpy seems to have a better read than anyone else." And that's where she was, before the door of Kirche's chambers. Had been for several minutes at that, pacing and gesticulating wildly in argument with herself about the necessity and sanity of her course. (An observer might have had something unflattering to say about the sanity part.)

 _Remember, Louise, Tabitha is going to be back from evening feeding soon. You have to get this over with or..._ she paused, puzzled at the rails laid before that train of thought. Why was getting back without Tabitha knowing important, again? It was something about... _Stalling,_ she reminded herself again.

Groaning, she turned to the thick oaken slab that stood between her and...

 _Answers. Yes, that's why I'm here._

Rapping sharply at the door, she was soon greeted by a beaming Kirche in what she presumed was the redhead's usual... nightwear.

 _Thy cup overflow..._

"What's this? Louise! Has my little firecracker finally come to join me on a nighttime excursion to the garden of pleasure, hmm?" Schooling her expression in the... face... of this indecent onslaught, Louise managed a clipped response.

"We need to talk, Zerbst. About-"

"Yes, about Tabitha." She was taken aback by the jarring shift in Kirche's demeanour. "Oh, don't look so surprised, Vallière. Whatever else you might think of me, I'm no fool- what else could it be? I don't have any illusions that you'd be visiting me in the evening otherwise. Come along, then."

* * *

Surveying Kirche's room for the first time, Louise was surprised most by the _austerity_ of it. She had somehow expected a decadent den of iniquity: chiseled bronze manservants without shirts fawning over an empress lounging on her throne; feeding her grapes and fanning her with a giant tropical leaf in hopes that she would favour them with a morsel of affection.

Nope. Just a room. Kirche herself was perched on the edge of the standard issue four-poster and the only real anomaly in this place was the large sturdy chair of dark hardwood and olive upholstery facing the mistress of the domain. A closer inspection was forestalled by a clearing throat. Right. Answers.

"So you know why I'm here," she finally ventured, choosing to remain standing.

"Well, I don't know the _specifics_ you want to address, but it's clear enough that something Tabitha-related is bothering you enough to swallow your pride and come to me." If she expected her dig to get a rise out of her _de facto_ rival, she was disappointed.

"Then I'll cut to the chase: do you know why she might be having nightmares? Something about her mother?" Kirche's expression tightened at this.

"I do. Unfortunately for you, I'm not going to - let me finish, you irascible prude! - No, I refuse to betray Tabitha's trust by telling you. I'm not qualified to tell her story in any event; you have to hear it from her. But know this: that knowledge has consequences, and if you're unwilling to bear them, you should stop this line of inquiry now." If being called an irascible prude had reached Louise, she didn't let it show. She took several seconds to digest the hidden implications behind those words.

 _This is something big and it can affect me too._

"I see, thank you for the warning. I'm afraid I'll be asking for another disruption to my usual life, then. You know, she... Tabitha is my f... my friend! A-a-and my familiar, too! Her welfare is mine as much as mine is hers. If I can't deal with something trivial like whatever this is about, am I even worthy to show my face in public? Foremost: a noble faces adversity with Steel in her heart!" The declaration was enough for the tense Kirche to lose all her hard edge as she let out a peal of lilting laughter.

"My, you really are something, Louise Vallière! I was right, you have... have... _'das gewisse Etwas'_ , so to speak. Ahh, and here I've been so very worried about how well you and my cute widdle tabby cat would mesh, too! But it looks like everything is going to be just fine." Something had changed. She wasn't sure how to explain it, but the tenor of the whole situation had changed in some unquantifiable way. And Kirche was grinning. Worrisome.

"R-right. Uhm. Good! That's good. Right." Awkwardly, Louise tried to get back to the topic. "Oh, how about this: do you have any tips on communication? I just can't read her well and she's not very talkative, so..."

"Honestly? I couldn't either for a long time!"

"Huh?"

"Honest! She intrigued me, so I just kind of inserted myself into her life and did my thing. When she didn't like what I was doing, she let me know." Kirche winced in remembrance of the bruises from one of their more colourful disagreements, something about drab undergarments, before continuing, "No, she's quiet but she's no wet blanket. I guess if you really want to get her talking, just be direct."

"Direct."

"I don't expect you to have any trouble with that. Ask her what you want to know and don't take it personally when she answers as efficiently as humanly possible."

"What, that's it?"

"More or less!"

* * *

They continued in this vein for another quarter of an hour. Louise did ask a few more questions, but most of the time she simply relaxed into the chair she had surrendered to and listened to her Germanian host. She hadn't realised just how much the duo had travelled together, and their time on the road was apparently a rich source of stories about Tabitha. She was sure they were exaggerated a bit-

 _I mean come on, who could believe a couple students running into that many full dragons in a trip through Gallia?_

-but she couldn't muster any complaints about academic honesty when Kirche seemed so cheerful and happy to be telling them. _And all without a bit of innuendo!_ Chatting with Kirche was, she found, rather _pleasant_.

Unfortunately, she realised she had run out of time. Taking advantage of a lull, she stood up.

"Oh, leaving so soon, darling?"

"You know, Zerbst, maybe I've misjudged you. You're a shameless tart and every moment spent alone in your presence has me fearing for my virtue-"

"Hey!"

"-But! Tabitha _has_ found an exceptionally good friend in you. Before this, I didn't think you had a serious bone in your body. I wonder why you don't show that side of yourself more?" Unable to meet Kirche's eye while saying such embarrassing things, she only looked up from the floor when she finished and found a look of perfect shock plain on her host's face.

Grasping this chance to escape unscathed, she bid Kirche good night and made a hasty departure.

Still lounging cross-legged on her bed, Kirche marveled that that mere slip of a girl had gotten one over on her. By accident! And then there was the absolutely glorious crushing of the Gramont brat she had witnessed...

"Kyaaaaa, that fiery passion! That burning resolve! Oh dear, I simply must... have... her? Come to think of it, how does that..." She trailed off, trying to visualise the mechanics involved. Shaking her head to dispel the thoughts, she smiled widely.

"Whatever, I think I really like that girl!"


	6. You Can't Knock People Out Like That

#AN: This one cleaned up far more easily than the last. I swear I'm not doing this two-chapters-at-a-time-weekly thing on purpose!

* * *

Chapter 5: You Can't Knock People Out Like That

Louise was preoccupied. Tabitha wasn't sure what held her little master's attention so firmly, but it had done so since the previous evening and all through the day. She hadn't slept well either, and it had her on-edge the whole time- she had nearly frozen a first-year boy to the floor for looking at them funny in the morning and she noticed after the fact that the Earth Studies teacher had only called on or even looked at students in one half of the room. The one where she wasn't. Even _reading_ wasn't as enjoyable.

 _Did something happen while I was away last night? Do I need to stay closer to her? If my absence was taken advantage of, someone is going to regret it._ Noting the approach of Kirche in her peripheral vision, she tried to will her tension away and allowed herself to fall behind slightly. Nothing seemed to break Louise out of a funk like a bit of noise and bluster and her hot-headed friend was always good for both.

Or would have been if Kirche hadn't changed the rules of engagement. Tabitha raised an eyebrow as Kirche didn't hail them to announce herself or lob the first volley of barbs. The second eyebrow went up when she gave no indication of stopping at all. Louise had no time to react or even face her assailant as her personal space was encroached.

"Got you! Aww, poor dear, are you really seventeen already? Here let Big Sis Kirche make them niiiice and biiiiig!"

Under ordinary circumstances, having her chest fondled by the heartthrob with the bombshell body that drew at least half of the eyes in the school would have embarrassed Louise. Under ordinary circumstances, her relationship with the ardent firebrand was incendiary. Under ordinary circumstances, this sort of thing didn't happen... really, at all, and especially not in the middle of the crowded dining hall!

The lively Lilliputian lass froze. Tabitha could practically see the gears in her head grind to a halt as a radiant blush of humiliation crept across what was surely her whole body, mouth moving soundlessly as she tried to process any kind of response. She cast about desperately until her eyes finally found Tabitha's own. Finally picking up on her genuine distress, Tabitha immediately sprang into action.

 _Not good. I won't allow a repeat of the other day!_ Closing the short distance in a blink, she delivered a chop to the distracted dark-skinned deviant, catching the now-slack body before it flattened her small master. Louise sank to the floor, breathing heavily, shock plain on her face. Making a snap decision, Tabitha scooped her catatonic charge into a princess carry and dashed out the far end of the hall, whistling for Sylphid.

It was only after she had mounted her dragon companion at a run and seen them safely airborne that she turned her attention back to Louise. She was shaking like a leaf! Damage control.

"Louise. You are safe." And just like that, the dam broke and Louise crushed Tabitha into an unexpectedly powerful hug, crying on her friend's chest. Tabitha, for her part, hoped the one-armed reciprocation wasn't as awkward as it felt. Crying girls had never been her area and none of the scenarios from novels seemed apropos at this point. If nothing else, Louise would understand she was trying to help.

At length, the waterworks dried up and the wracking sobs abated and her death grip eased (much to Tabitha's relief- it was a mystery how that tiny thing could be so strong). Though she didn't let go.

"Thanks." Tabitha nodded slightly in response, then realised Louise couldn't see it from that angle. Words, then.

"Feeling better?" She tried to let her concern show, but the wind probably robbed the question of its emotion.

"I think so, yeah."

"Sorry about Kirche." It wasn't her place to excuse her friend (and she resolved that she would damn well be making sure the loose broad was contrite later), but she thought it prudent to address the manticore in the room sooner than never. If novels had any point upon which they mirrored reality accurately, it would be in the ugly festering power of wounds of the heart. Louise responded with a noncommittal noise.

"If I'm being honest, I still don't understand what happened back there. Normally, when you put us in the same room, we just combust in a big silly argument. Even when she's gone too far with those grabby mitts of hers, I've always shaken it off in the past. This time, I just, I..."

"Shhhh... It's fine." Sensing the other girl was stable enough, she decided it was time to cheer her up. "Louise, look." Helping her turn her body around a bit, Louise was afforded a view of the vast patchwork landscape of the outlying academy environs stretching up to the Halkegine sunset on the horizon, partially eclipsed by the low red moon. The late spring air was still warm from the brightness of the day, so it was comfortable even though they weren't geared for flying.

She was relieved when Louise turned back with a huge grin and hugged her again, giggling as though the clock had been turned back to the halcyon days of childhood. Louise drew away and their eyes met, confirming what she somehow already knew in her heart. Louise was happy.

She hadn't been close with the Vallière's youngest for long, but the girl was an open book to someone as well-practiced as Tabitha at reading people. But now she could see plainly that she had a lot to learn.

 _Happiness,_ she noted sadly. _Real happiness without pretence or condition. She hides her mask so well, I didn't even consider she might be holding back this whole time. I'm too naïve; I should have noticed. It's almost like..._ Her reverie was interrupted by its subject.

"Thank you for taking me flying. It's wonderful." A nod. She continued, still radiating her joy, "You know, some of my earliest memories are of flying - on a manticore, not a dragon - and its always put me at ease to be up in the sky like this, away from all the worries and judgement and the whispers behind my back they don't think I hear." Ah, so that was it. Freedom. Escape from an unwanted fate, even if for a moment. Even grumbling about their peers didn't put a dent in her mood. "I haven't been up this high in years, though... I'm truly glad it lives up to the nostalgia."

"We can fly again." This rendered Louise positively effervescent in her elation.

"Ah, Tabitha, you're my prince!" Up here, far from prying eyes, Louise was allowed to be light and silly; allowed to squeal her delight without reservation.

And then _it_ happened.

It was a small thing. A spontaneous gesture from one friend to another, maybe even a bit of a jest.

But that little peck on the cheek hit Tabitha like a square-class stone golem.

 _Ah, I believe I've finally caught_ that _affliction._


	7. Perks of the Job

#AN: This was a fun one. Believe it or not, I'm not trying to hit all the stations of canon! Quite the opposite, in fact. It's just that it's been less than a week and nothing of great significance has happened yet.

* * *

Chapter 6: Perks of the Job

The blade of a knife hovering over the exposed jugular. The painful arm bar submission hold. The clear shock and horror written across two girls' faces.

 _What just happened?_

"N-n-n-now hold on, there, little lass! L-l-let's not do anything rash! I'm sorry! I was wrong!" Still attempting to puzzle out the sequence of events she had just played an active role in, Tabitha released the would-be thief's arm, allowing him to fall to the ground.

Still holding his knife in wonder, she made a few experimental cuts and jabs, marvelling at how... how _right_ it felt. Unnerved by the idea, she pitched the knife at the ground between his splayed legs and tried not to think about how it embedded itself a full two fingers into the stone of the square.

"Disappear." Scrambling backwards, appearing on the verge of soiling himself, he fled the terrifying "demon in red frames", as he later described her.

"Tabitha... what _was_ that just now?"

"Cutpurse."

"Er, right. Wait, no! I mean, how did you do all that... that stuff with the knife and... And..."

"Unknown."

"In fact, I never would have guessed you were handy with- huh?" The simple meaning of the response sank in and Louise took a closer look at her friend. "Can you please explain in greater detail, Tabitha?"

She considered the question. They had embarked a couple hours prior on a shopping excursion. Tabitha wasn't sure why she had been dragged along, but when Louise had so cutely asked if Sylphid would be willing to fly them, it became a small price to pay. The outliers to normalcy began when she had noticed a shady fellow eyeing the pouch hanging from Louise's waist. When he pulled his knife to relieve her of her coin, Tabitha had stepped in and deftly grabbed it over top of his hand.

There. That was when it happened.

...Whatever "it" was.

"I am untrained. Touching the knife..." She had felt like she was overflowing with power, as though the willpower she gathered for a huge spell was pooled inside her, improving her body's strength and reflexes. Experimentally, she tried gathering willpower in an attempt to replicate the effect, to no avail. "Yes, the knife." Her body had moved on its own, breaking the man's hold on the hilt and efficiently subduing him with machine-like precision.

"Strange, how could a scoundrel get an enchanted weapon like that?"

"No enchantment." Of that, Tabitha was certain. Augmentation and sharpness enhancement would be in her domains of water and wind, but there was none of the residual "texture" that high grade enchantment carried. Kneeling to inspect the blade - still buried in solid stone - she saw there were no runes inscribed on it either.

 _Runes? It couldn't be..._ Hesitantly, she reached out to grasp the battered wooden grip, and recoiled immediately. ... _Or perhaps it could._ She had certainly _felt_ it again, that intoxicating quickening as all of her senses came alive and she could immediately envision how she would defend against a strike against herself or her master regardless of the direction from which it came. But she had also seen the light. When she grasped the knife a third time, she watched the runes on the back of her hand flare with a ghostly light. Louise noticed too.

"By the Founder, what is that light? I've never heard of anything like this!" Tabitha frowned slightly, recalling something she had read in a history book before she was sent to this place.

 _Unless my estimation is very faulty, this must be_...

"Gandálfr."

* * *

"Gandálfr."

Though Louise knew Tabitha to be an avid reader of fantastic tales, she wasn't one for flights of fantasy. For her, saying that meant she _believed_ it! But how was that even possible? The legendary familiar of Brimir couldn't possibly have returned. ...Of course, summoning a human wasn't possible either. Yet there she was, reading a book in the middle of the city square.

The more Louise thought about it, the more things fell into place; as if the simple utterance of that name had triggered a cascade of jogged memories and connections that she had missed in the past. As she began to contemplate what all this might mean for her and what the reaction of the Crown and Church would be and what her _mother_ would say... Founder's beard! She quickly settled on the most prudent course of action she could think of when faced with a crisis of faith and looming parental disapproval:

Denial.

"No. No, no, no, and very no! It's a fluke. It must be! I don't want to hear any more potential heretical thoughts from you, missy!" Tabitha stared. Louise glared. Tabitha shrugged. Her expression said she knew Louise was lying to herself and was even aware of that fact.

"Grrrr, fine! We'll prove it by going to a weaponsmith! Come on." Abandoning the court where the failed theft had been utterly ignored by the general populous, they wandered until Louise spotted what she was looking for. "Here we are!"

* * *

The shopkeeper had a hard time thinking of a weirder pair of customers, and he'd probably been in business longer than their combined age. Clearly, they were both nobles. Noble _girls_ , and young ones at that.

 _Do they let kids that young throw fireballs these days? Times sure change... Well, business is business; what's a couple of snot-nosed tykes know about proper arms?_ Resisting the urge to chuckle at the gouging he was about to do, he greeted them with what he hoped was his most winsomest smile.

"G'day there, young ladies! To what do I owe the insanguinate pleasure?" The slightly-taller pink one with the impractically long hair piped up.

"She wants to try a sword." Jerking her thumb at the spindly reading girl with the big stick.

 _Does she, now? Sure doesn't look the part._ Shrugging inwardly, he grinned outwardly.

"Alrighty, I think I've got jes' the thing!" He shuffled into his storeroom and grabbed the most gaudy, useless decorative rapier he could reasonably find, bringing it up to the counter with what he imagined was great pomp. "Here, we have a gold alloy blade forged by my late master. It's-"

"Trash." He looked down to the blue-headed waif and she narrowed her eyes over her book when he met them... Or was it his imagination? Obviously it was that, how could this tiny thing possibly be intimidating? Noble or not... The other one looked shocked.

"Tabitha?"

"Louise, gold has high malleability and ductility. Even in alloy form, it is unsuitable for weapons," she explained evenly. Regaining his composure, he was about to double down on his grift when another voice interjected. From the barrel to Tabitha's left.

"Ahahaha, that was too good! The jig is up, Hans; the girl's got you dead to rights!"

"A talking barrel?"

"Sword."

"Dammit all, Derf, did you really 'ave to open yer rusty yap?"

"Says the guy who just tried to sell the Gandálfr a wall ornament! Now me, I- woooah! Why, hello there, girlie!" The one called Tabitha, having heard that title, snatched the unusually-shaped talking blade by scabbard and hoisted it to eye level.

"You called me 'Gandálfr'," she accused. The other one looked to have a headache coming on by this point.

"And you sure are, little lass!"

"Tell me what you know."

"Everything! I'm the great Derflinger, blade of the first Gandálfr six thousand years ago, after all!"

"I see."

"Not the talkative type? Oh well, I can certainly fill in for the both of us."

"Please don't!" Louise and Hans shouted in from the sideline of this most bizarre scene.

"Hey, quiet in the peanut gallery, we're having an important conversation! Now, how about you give me a draw and let's you and I get acquainted, girlie?" Indicating agreement by clasping the worn blade's hilt, Tabitha dropped into a wide stance and the tattoo on the back of her hand started glowing with magic he didn't recognise.

A hush fell over the shop as they watched the quiet girl, waiting for... something. Bidden by a signal only she could see, the quiet Tabitha let out an uncharacteristic kiai as the blade flashed out in a deadly arc and slid smoothly back into the beat-up wooden saya in a single motion.

"Whoooeee! Now that's what I'm talking about! You're a natural, girlie. Wet behind the ears, but you've got the right head for this. And magic, too! Take me with you and you'll be going places." She paused a moment, then looked at him over the counter.

"Cost?" Caught off guard by this turn of events, it took him a second to take in the unreal scope of his incredible fortune. He had a sucker here who actually _wanted_ Derflinger!

"That damn sword has been in my hair for years, bothering and scaring my customers. You can have him for fr-" Hans the Unscrupulous Weapon Dealer was cut off by a dull _thunk_ as the top half of the guttering candle on his counter fell, split on a clean diagonal fault, spilling paraffin in a small trail as it rolled off to extinguish itself on the dirt floor. Bemused, Hans stared at it for a long moment, glanced at the bottom that remained upright, and then back to Tabitha. "...For _five_ denier."

In response, she placed a single gold Ecú on the counter and shot him the world's tiniest smirk.

"Keep the change."

"Aaah, but it sure has been a long time since I was handled by a woman. You have very nice hands, even if you're a bit scrawny and flat in the ch- **owowowow, mercy! Uncle! I give, _I give!_** " Derflinger wasted no time ingratiating himself with his new owner, the backhanded insult giving way to pained begging as she stepped on the flat of the blade, bending it into submission. The bossy one was subdued as she looked up at Hans.

"That sword. Is it... always like this?"

"'Fraid so," he nodded sagely.

"Brimir's bollocks."

* * *

#Omake-esque AN: All right, sword geeking time!

Some might question my framing of Derflinger as a Japanese blade but, as much as I tried to avoid it, I think it makes more _sense_ than the other options when I consider what facts I can find.

I'll admit up front I haven't found a good detailed description of Derflinger as he was at the beginning but, looking at what pictures I can find and estimating, he appears to be a straight, single-edged blade of three shaku (using the pre-modern shaku for reasons that will soon become apparent, so roughly 106cm) with a hilt suitable for one- or two-handed use. No pommel, short angular point, apparently metal hilt and just a cloth wrap instead of a proper tsuka-ito (though that could just be because no one in the world even knows how to do that).

From all this, my best guess is he's based on very late chokutō designs from the Heian period, with some influence from various Grosse Messers (seen primarily in the width of the blade). In the first place, there aren't a lot of straight single-edge swords in history; curves are too useful to go ignored for long, which narrows it down considerably. I decided he's less likely in the Messer class because of the impractical length, what seems to be a wooden scabbard, and the part where he was invented by a Japanese guy for a Japanese story told in Japanese.

You might note Saito wears Derflinger on his back. Saito, as we all know, is an idiot.


	8. A Full Head of Heresy

#AN: I said before that I had some big decisions to make. I think I've finally worked a few of them out and they really helped solidify how we go from here to the future I envision. They also necessitated this chapter, though I'm not sure how I feel about it.

* * *

Chapter 7: A Full Head of Heresy

After the purchase of Derflinger (at an _extremely_ generous discount) and the accompanying revelations, Louise was subdued. Quiet. In fact, she hasn't spoken since, even though Tabitha had stopped to purchase a new sash upon which to hang the sword, some fingerless gloves to conceal the runes, and a dagger just in case. Noncommittal grunts were the only thing that came out of asking about her state, and it cast a new light on how infuriating her own behaviour could be.

Not that she minded the quiet.

Normally.

Now it was late afternoon and Sylphid was enjoying a leisurely meandering flight in the general direction of the academy. But the brooding silence of whatever was going on in the head of the girl seated behind her soured the experience.

 _Easy. Forcing her won't help. Soon, now._ It was pushing the usual boundaries of "soon", but she eventually spoke.

"Tabitha? Am I... a bad person?" She was so quiet, Tabitha barely caught it over the pleasant breeze. Suboptimal. Reluctantly, she wove a small air buffer around them so she could listen. Louise must have thought the hesitation was a negative reaction, because she quailed, "You do, don't you! You think I'm a terrible person and you're going to mmmphhmmph!" It was awkward, twisting herself around to clap a hand over Louise's mouth. Awkward, but necessary.

"No." Louise pulled the hand away, still clearly upset.

"But I've enslaved you! We're bound together so irrevocably, if we can't find a way around it I'll drag you down with me! I don't want that to happen to you even more than I don't want to lose you!" Tabitha was stunned at this admission as Louise hugged tight around her middle and pouted into her shoulder. Reflexively, she laid her hands over the ones holding her and hoped this sort of thing would stop happening long enough for her to read up on how to properly handle crying girls.

 _This has been bothering her the whole time. Drag me down? Louise, you've given me a great power! Why is this coming up now?_

"Elucidate."

"I've read the history books, you know," she sniffled. "I remember what comes next. You read a lot, too. You know what the church does to people with the power of Void, right?" Oh. That. Tabitha sighed internally.

 _This isn't good. Novels don't tend to cover genuine crises of faith._ She made a mental note to diversify her reading if life was going to keep throwing curve balls at her like this, but Louise was already pressing onward.

"So many evil heretics and the church brings them to justice and makes them answer for their misdeeds! And once they find out about _me_?" Tabitha cut to the heart of the matter as only she could.

"Dummy." Beat.

"What?"

"Big dummy. It's different."

"Tabitha! What are you talking about!? I'm really worried here! I'll be branded a heretic and executed!" Oh, where to even start?

"For what?"

"I thought you were listening, I have the Void, even you and that rusty door stopper think so! It's Brimir's righteous punishment for the heinous things I've done."

"Such as?"

"Eh? Well..." she began muttering about a litany of childhood infractions, detailing such crimes as receiving discreet cookies from the head chef before supper, climbing the library shelves, and hiding at bath time. Terrible stuff, really.

 _This girl... as cute as this is, I can't let it keep going._

"Louise," she cut in firmly, "You're silly." Ah, blessed quiet. But Tabitha could tell it wouldn't last if she didn't fill the gap, so she consulted her memory of history.

"4682, a warlord is documented using the void as justification for his homicidal control over the kingdom of Hallancia. Indirectly responsible for the Germanian unification."

"That... that sounds like Harkonnen the Eviscerator."

"Correct. 5831, a conspiracy to murder the majority of Albion high nobility in a Firestone explosion was narrowly avoided."

"Oh! The Void Hawks! 'Remember, remember-'"

"Quite. 5602, the pope's own legate ordered a city of 8000 razed by mercenaries, claiming the void granted him the right to mete justice."

"...The Butcher of Cesenia?"

"Pretenders to the throne. All had normal magic. By contrast, you were born a true successor. It is a blessing." Now she had her master's attention.

"But wait, what if I'm not the first? If there were others like me!? The church wouldn't... couldn't possibly..." And there it was!

"They could and did," she retorted. "Protestant movements clearly indicate corruption. Your birth may be a sign."

"M-me? Of what? How?!" Dear Louise, thank you for not reading novels. Please keep it up. Sincerely, Tabitha.

"You are the True Void. The embodiment of His Will." Also adorably gullible.

"Hehe, when you put it like that, I sound like a legendary hero!" She chanced a glance over her shoulder and saw Louise was hanging on to her every word with a sparkle in her eyes. She sighed.

"We must be cautious."

"Huh? But you just said-"

"As a nascent successor, you are very vulnerable. If there _were_ others like you, it is clear Divine favour is not invincible. Tell no one." As she continued to soothe the doubts and fears of her tiny master and replace them with something new, one thought loomed in her head.

 _I'm sorry, Louise. You don't deserve this, but I see a path. Mother..._

* * *

The next day, Louise skipped classes for the first time.

 _They can't teach me anything anyway._

Tabitha would relay her alibi and everyone would believe it because they were both top students. Too easy.

And it wasn't even a lie: she did feel unwell!

Her sleep the night prior could only be called restful if one were to lie through her teeth, and she was never a lady of the morning in the first place. Tabitha had taken one look at her and told her to stay in bed. She'd even had some breakfast sent up, though the maid that had delivered it somehow managed to slip out before Louise could relay her gratitude back to Tabitha.

She'd dozed off after eating, but the reality of her situation wasn't disappearing when she awoke from the fitful nap only a couple hours later. Even if she no longer feared her imminent and very painful end at the hands of the church, she was still coming to terms with the whole terrible shopping trip.

Tabitha had helped her again, probably more than ever before. She had been hysterical. Hindsight was very clear on that point. Another failure, though at least no one had seen it. _Except_ _Tabitha._

"Tabitha... I wonder how she's doing without me..." She paused in grim realisation. "Pfft, what am I saying, of course she's fine. Even if I _am_ the 'instrument of divine might' or whatever, she's the real hero. All I can do is... oh, Founder's sakes, can we- can _I_ really do what she thinks? Be what she thinks? I just keep bumbling things up and causing her trouble!"

She had been stood up and started pacing at some point. Loosing something between a sigh and a groan, she fell backwards onto her bed.

"How can weak, pathetic little Louise help her?" It was a question she mulled all the way through a much-needed midday nap.


	9. Lost History

Chapter 8: Lost History

"Hey Tabitha?" They sat at the tea table in Louise's room, reading; Louise for next month's classes, Tabitha chewing through some story about a war golem wanting to be human. She raised her head to meet her companion's gaze, book lowered to give the coming question her attention. Louise had been acting a bit off since her nap earlier in the day, and this question was almost certainly related. Now, with this expression of concern and pacifying tone... she had an inkling of where this was going. Seeing her tense up, Louise sighed and stood, moving to the bed.

"Actually, come here. Let's get cozy." Tabitha concluded that either Louise was getting better at reading her or she was very agitated. Either way, she tried without success to master the stiffness in her movements that were so overly-revealing of her mental state. Folding her legs underneath her on the other side of the spacious mattress, she imagined she looked... pensive, more than blank. No good. Crawling up to sit leaning against the headboard along the wall, Louise patted the spot next to her.

"Relax, I just want to talk. I've realised we still really don't know anything about one another. We haven't been friends all that long and things keep happening, so it feels like we haven't had the chance to really bond," she explained. On one hand, this was idle chatter about the worst sort of topic: herself. On the other... the temptation of new knowledge won out, and Tabitha joined Louise quickly.

"I guess I'll start..." Louise lead, launching into an abridged history of herself. Despite having done her research before, Tabitha found there were a few eye-opening facts that really didn't match public record. Louise was close enough the the Tristanian royal family to count the princess among her friends, for example. Her eldest sister was one of the top magic researchers in the capitol. Oh, and her mother, the Duchess de La Vallière, was Karin, The Heavy Wind. _I see where she gets her pride from, this girl is ridiculously well-connected._

* * *

While she chatted aimlessly about herself, Louise was watching Tabitha's body language, such as it was. It was with no small relief that her fellow mage began to relax around the time she was telling the story of when she and Henrietta had made a pillow fort in the castle library in the middle of the night. Was... was that Tabitha laughing? Sort of? _Well, it's a start. Maybe she's relaxed enough now._ After a short pause, she decided to test the waters.

"So then, Tabitha, how about you? What's your favourite colour?" It wasn't important _per se_ , but she wanted to know the basics too!

"Yellow."

"Oh, a sunny, cheerful one. Why don't you wear more of it, then?"

"..."

"... Don't worry about it. I won't force you. But what about your glasses?"

"Gift from Kirche."

"Ah, I see. How about food? What do you like best?"

"Grass salad."

"No! Are you an old man!?" Louise adopted an expression of mock horror for a moment before giggling. Tabitha merely blushed a little. "It's fine, it's fine. Here's a secret: my mother _loooooves_ pickled herring." Well, the Heavy Wind was human, after all. Humans are weird.

"Now, Tabitha, can you please tell me about your family?" Suddenly, the tension was back. Steeling herself, Louise forged on. "I... want to know. About you. About your... your mother. I want to help. I know I'm not strong, and I can't cast spells, and I'm barely taller than you. I know all that!" She winced at the reality of her own self-reproach. "But I still want to help you because I can see you're in pain! If it's just that, if I can even take a little of the weight off of you... I mean, I don't think your nightmares are going to just stop like that, but every little bit counts, right?" Taking Tabitha's hand in her own, in what she hoped was a comforting gesture, she played her trump card. "Tabitha, you are my friend. One of the very few I have. Please trust me when I say what passes between us here is in absolute confidence. Please... let me help take some of _your_ burden."

Tabitha stared at her for a long moment, gauging her. _I decided at the summoning that this connection could become my third path. She has to find out sooner or later and it will cause her distress no matter what. I suppose it's time to speak up._ Seeing the resolve behind Louise's pleading expression, she made her decision.

"It is a long story..."

Over the next hour, she related a tale of intrigue, betrayal, and heartbreak in which her father was assassinated and his sadistic brother usurped the throne of Gallia. When she finally explained the personality destroying poison her mother had taken in her stead, she found Louise hugging her tightly, tears streaming down her face. They stayed like that even while she related what happened after, about the deadly missions she was forced to undertake with her mother as a hostage. When she finished, neither girl said anything for a long time.

"...Unforgivable."

Eventually the young Vallière broke the silence with that simple declaration.

Despite having been the object of ridicule for much of her life, very few understood the barbs they sent her way paled in comparison to her own. As far as Louise was concerned, others could only scratch the surface of her failure. An impartial observer would call it warped logic, but to her they were right!

So it was a foreign sensation she was feeling toward this Joseph de Gallia: Rage. A toxic disgust so overpowering it threatened to drown her. This wasn't the flare of a girl telling off an oaf in her peer group, but the cold certainty that she would _find_ that beast and **_end_** -

Frowning, she realised she was losing control and took a deep breath, disengaging her embrace to sit up straight and master her runaway emotions.

 _Regicide isn't a subject for polite company, and prevents the proper application of Justice._ It _would_ be her mother's voice scolding her about such a topic. But, for the first time, the Rule of Steel was probably resulting in a happier, more healthy Louise. Yes, the man would be delivered unto Justice for his crimes, and receive a fitting end.

Though she had calmed down, she was still struggling to put her feelings into words. Somewhat shakily, she began, "Thank you, Tabitha. For telling me; for trusting me with this story. I'm not sure what can be done yet, but I'll find some way. If there's anything I can do, anything at all, just name it." Accepting the single nod as all the answer she would get, she hugged Tabitha once more for good measure and then stretched.

"That probably took more out of you than it did me and I feel exhausted. Let's tuck in." With a small noise of agreement, the two girls changed into their night wear and went to bed. Later, Louise would recognize what happened next as an important turning point, but for the moment she was too tired to be excited when Tabitha seized her hand, locking their fingers together. Opening one bleary eye, she saw Tabitha facing her with the hint of a smile.

"Thank you... Louise."

* * *

Though she had said they should go to sleep - and she really _was_ as tired as she claimed - Louise lay awake. Tabitha's story was hard to digest; unbelievable, even.

 _His own brother! And the poison..._ She shuddered, recalling Tabitha's clinical explanation of the vile substance. _I... But I don't think she's made any of it up..._ Louise frowned at this.

"Foremost: a noble conducts herself with honour befitting her station," she mouthed silently. It was one of the core tenets drilled into her from an early age. One of the absolute Rules which she held dear.

 _That's right. Nobles aren't common savages. Joseph de Gallia must be afflicted. A disease of the mind, or some sort of dark magic._

But the seed of doubt is a hardy one, and her sleep that night was restless.


	10. A Bid For Peace

#AN: It was the last part of this one that gave me fits. Well, that and agonising over how I want to handle the next part. I guess I'll just have to write and see what sticks.

* * *

Chapter 9: A Bid For Peace

 _Welp, time to face the music..._ Tabitha had made it _quite_ clear that she would or suffer some extremely creative consequences if she did not, after all. _I know I always said books would be the death of me, but not like that!_

Sighing, Kirche, gave herself one last look over before knocking at the Zer- at _Louise de la Valli_ _ère's_ door. _If ever there were proof she's not a zero..._ Looking down, she then smirked, _In magic, at least._ Hearing the door unlatch, she schooled her expression back to-

 _Maybe smiling would give her the wrong idea? Sear it all, consequences are hard!_

-something strange; not clearly smile or grimace, Kirche wished desperately for a mulligan as she was confronted with the youngest Vallière at the mouth of her lair. The youngest Vallière whose expression morphed from relaxed ease to a stony mask of indifference tempered by a bit of not-quite-concealed fear at the sight of her.

" _Zerbst._ What." It wasn't the first time she had been addressed like that. In fact, it was probably only the latest in an unbroken line of such "greetings". But this time stung. It was the first time Louise had ever looked at her like _that,_ and her heart broke a bit.

 _Gods, what have I done? Am I really so intolerable? And her mood before she saw me! I didn't even know she could make a face like that. Something that cute is beyond dangerous..._

"Hey, hey, easy there, dear Louise! I come in peace." She raised her hands as if to show she was unarmed, and Louise shot her a withering look for her trouble. "Please? Just hear me out?" Huffing a little, the angry teen gestured imperiously at the spare chair on the near side of the small tea table. It didn't look like a very nice chair.

"Fine. Sit." It really wasn't a very nice chair, and that certainly probably _may_ not have been nerves talking. Settling into the seat opposite her, arms crossed, Louise fixed her with what she would later dub "The Look", a thing whispered about in hushed tones - unnerving displeasure, it turns out, is a heritable trait when your mother is a walking natural disaster. Unprepared and seeing it for the first time, Kirche was taken aback. "Well?" It came out as more of a snarl than a question.

"Sorry! Ah, er..." taking steadying breath, she tried again. "Vallière, I want... No, I _need_ to apologise-"

"For the day before yesterday."

"Yes, for that too. But actually just in general: I've been a heel, and looking back at it, I can't really blame you for reacting the way you do. I always thought of it as teasing with no deep meaning, but now I realise that it wasn't like that for you."

"At long last!" Kirche blanched at this blithe statement.

"You know, I've never... never hated you, Louise." While she had always known it internally, this was the first time Kirche had ever admitted it aloud. Feeling strangely liberated, she continued in earnest, "Actually, I admire the way you see your way through on sheer determination. And I really respect the way you stick to your principles even when the world shows you its ugly side." _Scorch it all, I can't stop myself. This is getting embarrassing!_

"So when you told me I was a good friend? It... it made me really happy. And then when I saw you in Alvis, I just couldn't help myself, and I crossed a line. So I'm sorry." _I take it back, this is super embarrassing. Smokes, I sound like a virgin with a crush!_

Kirche's eyes widened slightly in realisation. Of all the stupid, stereotypical outcomes, this one really took the charcoal! But her epithet was "Ardent", after all; she could adapt. _Okay, so how do I seduce a girl?_ Kirche was fortunate her dark skin concealed the uncharacteristic blush painting her face in the dim evening light.

Sighing heavily, Louise deflated, taut glare softening to resigned neutrality as she folded her hands on the table.

"You know, even though you humiliated me in front of all of our peers, it's really hard to be mad at you when you're," she gestured vaguely, "like this. It's _weird!_ This demure Kirche goes against the natural order of things!"

"So...?"

"Ugh, fine, I forgive you, all right!? Just... Don't embarrass me like that agaMPFHHH?" Her admonishment was cut off as Kirche gleefully pulled her into a suffocating hug. Flailing madly, Louise fought bring her head back to air. "Help! I'm dying! I'm drowning in _breasts!_ Unhand me, you **Boob Demon!** "

"Ufufu, no need to be shy, darling; you can touch if you want! Ah, Tabitha, welcome back~!" Tabitha surveyed the scene she had returned to from the library and, with the keen sense of a small prey animal, decided a hasty retreat was in order. "Now, now, no need to be jealous, there's plenty of Kirche to go around!" As she was hauled in by Kirche's other arm, her rational self admitted it was a futile gesture, but survival instincts mean you have to try.

* * *

Another day, just like any other. It was morning, the sun just peeking through the gap in the curtains to disturb the slumber of a dark-skinned diva with endless waves of fiery red hair: one Kirche Augusta Frederica von Anhalt-Zerbst. Eventually, the lovely warm pillow she was glommed onto swapped a letter, becoming lively instead.

"How did this happen."

It was a statement more than a question, so Kirche felt no real obligation to answer the pillow, but she did consider opening an eye to get the lay ( _Heh, "lay". Oh, I kill me!)_ of the land. Bed. Bedland. _It sounds a lot like bedlam,_ she mused before noticing the problem with that. _Bed lam? Escaping the bed? Nope, you're not allowed to quit the battlefield just yet, pillow!_ Something was still wrong, she could tell. _Ah, but this is a bed. Beddlefield. That's the ticket!_ _Damn, I'm good at_ this...

Remembering she had been thinking of opening her eyes, she proceeded to-

 ** _Augh, why have you betrayed me, Herr Sonne!_**

-nearly go blind. Squinting, and averting her eyes, she was finally lucid enough to realise that pillows are usually much more docile. In fact, they don't move under their own power at all! Usually! _We must never speak of this again, especially to Tabitha._ She shuddered to think of what the crafty Gallian would do with _that_ idea.

Speaking of whom, Kirche realised through the clearing spots in her eyes that Tabitha was also in the bed. She could clearly see the shock of soft blue hair that she had only ever seen on the head of her best friend in the world. _Even if she's a violent little cuss at times. Maybe she's hard up? It's always the quiet ones..._ Ah, that jogged a memory! She, and specifically her sadistic streak, was the reason Kirche had come to-

"Right, like I could forget." Her pillow sighed and relaxed, which was nice because a tense pillow is a lumpy pillow. "What was I even thinking, making Tabitha my familiar?"

Right, like Kirche could forget, she had come to Louise's room. And that was Louise's voice.

Coming from her chest.

Nervously, she shifted her gaze from top of Tabitha's sleeping head to the space between them that was occupied by what she had previously acknowledged only as a shockingly active pillow. There, plain as the rising sun ( _Traitorous fireball!_ ), was one Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière, a delightful doll of a girl as far as she was concerned.

"...Hm, this is actually a bit _too_ warm."

* * *

End Arc 1: Morning People are the Real Heretics


	11. Loops Not Taken 1: Compulsion

#AN: My approach to writing this is disjoint- I have scenes and snippets all across my timeline already written! A lot of the last couple weeks has been trying to figure out how I want the next arc to go and reviewing what I have already. In the midst of this I realised I have at least this snippet and probably a couple others that don't really fit anywhere in particular, don't have any real significance, or just can't possibly happen in my canon because Time and Causality are both very mean.

These are the _Loops Not Taken_.

* * *

Loops Not Taken 1: Compulsion

Soon after Tabitha began living in Louise's room, books began to appear, like moss on the trunk of a tree.

 _Bah, more like 'weeds in a flowerbed'!_ It started slow, a few volumes sprucing up the otherwise barren little bookshelf every room had as standard.

That shelf soon filled up, then filled again for good measure. An older, wiser Louise would have eyed the two-deep arrangement of novels with concern, but Louise of the present was pleased by the efficiency of it.

Then the second, much larger bookshelf appeared. Much later, she later learned it was all but stolen from the library, but she let it slide at the time, merely extracting a promise from Tabitha that no more bookshelves would appear. And that was, naturally, the end of it.

She really should have known better.

Tabitha honoured her request in letter, but in spirit... it was a promise Louise learned to regret. The nightstands were the first victims of this new chapter in the literary conflict, books stacked in tottering piles on both sides of the bed. Then they grew onto the tea table, the top of the dresser, _inside_ the dresser... It wasn't until she woke with a tome digging into her back, interrupting a much-needed nap, that Louise decided enough was _quite_ enough.

Sighing wearily, she cast a glance at the space around her. By this point, the bedroom looked like a disaster area, waist-high piles of books stacked on every finger of spare floorspace, narrow paths between them providing the means to move about on foot. Barely.

"Tabitha, what is this?" She waved the errant volume in Tabitha's direction. Looking up from her reading, she responded without any hesitation.

"Digging Down Considered Harmful: A Treatise on Ruin Excavations in Albion. Second edition." Louise blinked at the rapid answer, then looked closely at what she held. Louise sighed again. Of _course_ Tabitha would know it on sight.

"Yes, yes, it most certainly _is_. What it is **_not_** , however, is 'invited to bed'! If this happens again, I'm getting Zerbst in here and we're having an intervention."

* * *

#AN: While I'm thinking about it, I wanted to mention I really appreciate the steady trickle of follows and favourites. When I started, I never expected there would be nearly five-hundred people to read all of the first arc and about 20% of them who _actually_ _want email_ (gasp) when there's more. You folks make my days a bit better and I thank you for it.

If you made it this far and have thoughts or corrections to make, please do leave a review! Or PM me, I guess? I hope it doesn't seem selfish of me to want to hear from my audience more often, but I really love when it happens and, now that I'm this deep in it, I want to do right by you all.


	12. Technically True

#AN: This is an interlude chapter rather than the start of a new arc, but it IS canon to the story.

* * *

Chapter 10: Technically True

Tabitha hadn't been using her academy-assigned bedroom for much in the two weeks since the Springtime Familiar Summoning. On the upshot, the improved space efficiency of her sleeping arrangements meant the book density of her private sanctum could be increased further and she was already making furtive plans and it was going to be _wonderful_. Less wonderful, however, was her reason for being there: the writing desk. She had a... private letter... to write.

* * *

VZCZCCG01  
RR GACDNIO GACIO  
DE TRACM #0002 1101927  
ZCY SSSSS ZGH  
R 141927T FEOH 42  
FM GACDNFA/LA NIÑA  
TO GACIO/STONE GAUL ACTUAL 62420414  
KS JANNAH IS IN THE DISTANCE  
SU SITREP

1\. HAVE CONTINUED BLENDING INTO THE STUDENT BODY; COVER IS FULLY INTACT.

2\. IMPORTANT CONNECTIONS MADE; SITUATION DEVELOPING APACE. CONNECTION "V" MAY ALLOW ACCESS TO INTERNAL SECRETS; CONTINUING ASSOCIATION.

3\. STRONG MILITARY PRESENCE IN SCHOOL.

4\. NO EVIDENCE OF ROYAL FAMILY WITH POTENTIAL VOID MAGIC DISCOVERED YET.

* * *

She glared at the secret missive as though she could cause it to catch fire by staring at it. It did not.

"Sufficient." she finally relented. Rolling it up and sealing it in a warded tube, she then turned her baleful gaze upon the insistent tapping at the window. "Annoying." She strode over and threw them open, and in flitted the messenger construct of The Bitch. It made a small circle before landing on the desk, head fixated unerringly on the cargo it was to carry.

It had the appearance of something like an owl if an owl were made of brass and clockwork and elegant filigree. It was ornamented enough that it could be passed off as a subversive art piece, but no, it was definitely magical. Nothing made of that much beautifully wrought metal could fly without magic.

And Tabitha _hated_ it. It was part of the network of terrible strings that held her bound to family she would see disowned and destroyed. This time, though... this time, things were different! And so she finally allowed herself a small indulgence in that vindictive streak small quiet things are so well known for. It was time for some Extremely Petty Revenge!

She grabbed the thing's head and pushed down, undoing the internal latch, and jerked it sharply back up with a bit of a twist. There was a satisfying scrape of binding metal and one of the guide rails snapped. Reaching into her tool drawer, she then withdrew a pair of cutters which she used to clip a bit off of each of its left primaries. Slotting the tube in, she then tilted the patiently waiting messenger golem back and poured binding glue all over the payload. Then, she gingerly picked it up and set it on the window sill. Almost as an afterthought, she poured her remaining half mug of sweet, sticky coffee over top of it before mashing the chamber shut with far more force than necessary and booting it off the ledge.

 _Fly wobbly and slow, infernal contraption!_ _  
_

Small victories.

* * *

#AN: I think I'm pretty close to having a proper picture of what's happening in the second arc, and I have... probably close to two thirds of it drafted at this point? I was hoping to come up with more fun stuff to go in this interlude period, but I keep drawing blanks.

By the by, if anyone with strong detailed knowledge of canon is interested in being a sounding board/collaborateur for this story, that could be helpful. (This way lay spoilers, of course.)


	13. Territory Disputes

#AN: Okay, okay, in the words of some crossdressing funnyman from an island nation no one's ever heard of, it's time for me to just "Get on with it!"

I wanted to do this (moderately pretentious) thing where I had an "Interlogue" with the last scene of the second arc so I could intentionally mirror what I (accidentally) pulled off with the first arc. I've even written it.

But unlike the first arc, there are things I haven't written yet that affect how that final scene will probably play out, so I'm scrapping the idea. For now. Maybe I'll add it in later if I can figure out how to make this site do that.

Or maybe it's just a bad idea in the first place. Either way, I think the next few chapters have been mostly written for close to a year now and I'd be lying to say I'm not very curious what you, my dear readers, will think.

* * *

Chapter 11: Territory Disputes

"Kirche, what are you doing in my room."

"Why, I should think that's obvious, peach. It's bed time for growing girls, and you two could certainly use the _growing_." Louise scoffed at the statuesque redhead's finger jabbing at her chest.

"And what, pray tell, does that have to do with your presence at this time?"

"Oh, I need to fill my cuteness tummy and you two just so happen to be amazingly adorable."

"What! That's not even a thing!"

"Oh ho ho, Louise wants a thing, does she?"

" **Eh!?** D-dummy! Ingrate! Pervert!"

"Well, I never! Come now-"

"Neither now nor later!"

"-dear, when have I ever done something untoward to your nubile little body?" Louise rolled her eyes and pulled a scroll from under her pillow and waved it at Kirche.

"I have a list here. I started it four days ago. I'm running out of space already," she deadpanned.

"Oh, Louise! I _knew_ you cared!" The squawk of protest was muffled by mammaries as Kirche deftly snagged the squirming Vallière to draw her into a hug. "I'm so flattered that our _perfectly ordinary_ _skinship_ means so much to you!" Louise was losing, and all three of them knew it. Tabitha chose to tune it out until the inevitable conclusion.

"W-w-w-well, if that's how it is, I g-guess you can stay." Louise looked away, but couldn't conceal the crimson tinting her face. Tabitha suspected she was blushing a bit herself. Nevertheless, she took the opportunity to exchange a smirk with her old friend. There was no need for words where a bashful Louise was concerned: they weren't adequate anyway.

Since the two most energetic girls in her life had reconciled the previous week, a scene similar to this had played out every evening. Naturally, the result was always the same, and Kirche joined them in "their" bed. Tabitha idly wondered if the administration was aware of the two rooms going relatively unused in the tower.

Looking back over her book at a blushing Louise ( _Indescribably cute._ ) being teased by an equally blushing Kirche ( _Unprecedented._ ), she was forced to confront this... situation... again. It was clear to her that Kirche was pursuing Louise, whether it was openly acknowledged or not (by Louise herself, that is; Kirche wasn't capable of guile when it came to subjects like attraction). They even turned out to have good chemistry together. _But how do I feel about this? Is it really fine to let this happen? I'm supposed to be her protector, so would I be failing my duty allow her to get involved with Kirche?_ Inevitability being the apparent theme of the night, she only lasted a few seconds before addressing the gryphon in the room. _And how much of what I'm considering is motivated by... by my own selfish feelings?_

And there was the 100 Ecú question: how _did_ she feel about the often-childish void mage? There was attraction, to be sure. Something about how she carried herself... she had a weighty _nobility of spirit_ that lent her petite frame a sort of ethereal beauty, and the core of strength in her was second to none. And it's not like they didn't get along well, either! But they had only been proper friends for a week and a half; she could easily be mistaking the love of friends or sisters for romance. Was twelve days really long enough? Tabitha had been around the literary block enough to see this cliché plot from leagues off.

And even if she were to harbour _that_ kind of love, could she rightly say she deserved it? She was a familiar now. A sword and shield, extension of Louise's will. Despite that, she was also pushing Louise into a life of politics, strife, and conflict. Truly, what right did she have to covet something so pure and innocent whilst deliberately steering it toward an ugly means?

The nightmares that had blessedly given her a respite since Kirche had joined their serial slumber party returned in force that night.

* * *

As ever, Louise was at Tabitha's side, attentive to her, holding her and making her feel safe. They had practically forgotten about Kirche's presence. It wasn't until Tabitha had fallen back to sleep held close against her chest that Louise was reminded of the third body.

"Amazing. She really trusts you." Louise looked back over her shoulder at the intrusion and... was that her narrowing her eyes?

"Oh right, you're here. You could have helped, you know. You've known her far longer than me, I'm sure she wouldn't mind." Her tone was bland, but the message clear as day: "you let her down". Kirche winced a little at that proclamation.

"I... I was scared." It was an unsettling thought for Kirche, but she couldn't bring herself to fib when pinned with the annoyed glare. "I've never seen her like... _that,_ you know. For all the time we've spent together, all the nights out on the road together, she's never allowed me to see her as... vulnerable. I think... I think she's only ever shown that side to you." The words hung in the air, not quite an accusation, but an uncomfortable truth. Louise grunted her acknowledgement but otherwise said nothing for a long minute.

"Well, just do better next time." Kirche was stunned anew at this... concession? _What? What is "next time"? Does she? I mean do I... have a chance after all?_ Steeling herself, she stared intently and couldn't help drawing a little gasp at what she saw in Louise's eyes. Louise flinched slightly at the contact but didn't pull away when Kirche slowly reached out and cupped her cheek with her hand.

"Louise." She breathed the name - not seductively, but somehow laced with Eros nonetheless - as though it could sustain her.

"W-w-w-whanghlpdrrr-" Louise's abortive attempt at inquiry lapsed into incoherent sputtering until it was silenced by a finger on her lips and a single slow shake of the head.

"My, my, all it takes to get that lovely blush is a bit of eye contact? No challenge at all!" Kirche faked a pout, before shifting back to the gaze that drawn the blush out into the first place. Kirche's easy smile, so far from the usual smirks and half grins, was hearth-baked warmth on a brisk Autumn day and Louise unconsciously relaxed into the contact.

"Sleep now, dear Louise." She whispered, and drew the small girl, still clutching Tabitha, into her embrace.

The bodies in her arms relaxed and their breathing slowed to the deep rhythm of slumber, but she remained awake, reflecting on everything that had happened recently. It had always been a fun game to tease the petite firebrand, but taking time to learn about the person behind the zero revealed something much more potent than she was even prepared for.

 _And to think I thought my flames burned bright before. This... This is so much **more**._ Planting a delicate kiss atop the pink crown, she admitted it in the hush of the night.

"I love you, Louise."


	14. Look, A Distraction!

#AN: Oh look, plot progression!

* * *

Chapter 12: Look, A Distraction!

Void. Not just a towering malevolent engine of heresy, it's also a day. A day for rest. A day for picnics in the sunny courtyard with her familiar and former... well, still tormentor, but Kirche didn't mean anything bad by it.

...Unless if by "bad" you meant "lewd", in which case she probably meant quite a bit of "bad". But that wasn't relevant in brightness of a late spring day. Probably.

 _Best to stop thinking about it; she can probably smell a drop of innuendo spilled in a small lake like... like some kind of overly-sexual shark?_ The simile needed revision, so Louise set it aside- she had more important things to think about!

It had been a whole week since the failed shopping trip in which she had failed to find Tabitha a nice gift to show her appreciation. Sure, they had discovered the power of the runes and acquired an annoying taking sword, but that just wasn't the goal! And after the last week, the number of things she needed to make up for had only increased.

She wasn't ready to give up, but she was no closer to something good. Some would say "books, obviously", but books, especially around Tabitha, were ephemeral; a pleasure, but short lived. No, she wanted something that wasn't consumable. Like the glasses from Kirche.

 _Maybe a new staff? Her old one is in pretty bad shape and a better focus never hurts when you can actually cast spells._ Recalling some of Tabitha's exploration into how the runes worked, she thought better of it. _Rather than a staff, something smaller. A wand? If she's going to incorporate weapons..._ One specific part came back to her from a conversation she had endured on the flight back to the academy:

* * *

"What's that? You want to know more about the runes?"

"No! Shut up!" Really, no one had said anything, and Louise was definitely Not In The Mood. Why was it talking?

"Sure thing, lass! Y'see, Gandalfr is the preternatural master of arms," the sword explained, "If it's intended to be a weapon, the bearer of those runes is peerless in her skill simply by holding it, even if she's never seen it before."

"Don't care!" Was the awful thing senile? Who makes a talking sword anyway? How is that useful? And it was _still blathering_ as if it hadn't heard her at all.

"In addition to granting unparalleled combat knowledge, it enhances all of the familiar's physical parameters so long as she even holds a weapon."

"I'll have you turned into spoons, you overgrown-"

"Stronger, faster, and hardier than any other, Gandalfr is the unrivalled protector of a void mage!" Derflinger didn't even pause to let her complete the threat.

"You are the worst." she sighed, resigning herself to a fractious relationship with an inanimate object.

* * *

Slapping her head she chuckled lightly. _Of course! It's so obvious! A spell blade would be perfect! In fact, I'll bet I could get her a superb specimen from my mo-_ the blood drained from her face as she realised what she had been forgetting to do. _Oh, Brimir's hairy stones, this is really bad! I've been so caught up in everything that I forgot to contact home! Mother is going to be furious!_

To an outside observer, what had just transpired looked awfully strange. Kirche was chatting at Tabitha and Louise about whatever came to mind over lunch when the young Vallière had visited a resounding strike to her own innocent brow and then laughed. Kirche was certain it wasn't a response to the joke she was telling (they hadn't even gotten to the part about the goat yet). And then she paled from animated mirth to shocked terror?

"Louise? Is something the matter?" The joke could wait, something more interesting was afoot!

"Yes."

"And that is?"

"Death."

"Monosyllabic answers may work for Tabitha, but you need to use your words, darling."

"My mother. I never contacted home after the spring summoning."

"Oh, you rude child! But that doesn't explain why you look like you've seen a ghost?"

"Heavy Wind." Tabitha supplied helpfully.

"Hmm? But the clouds are barely moving. And that hardly seems terrifying."

"No. My mother. Is Karin, the Heavy Wind." Kirche did a double take.

" **That** Heavy Wind?"

"Yes, that one."

"No kidding?"

"Do I look like I'm faking it?"

"Okay, I take it back, that seems pretty terrifying. Please don't die, I would be very sad and all my comfort food goes to my hips."

"I'll believe that when I see it, Boob Demon. Anyway, Tabitha, next week, I think we should go visit my family."

"Acknowledged." Tabitha's response came with her standing to leave.

"Oh right, are you going to start practicing soon? Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Affirmative. Negative."

"Ah. Well, then... I'll, uh, be there for moral support?" A nod. Tabitha didn't say anything, but Louise was pretty sure she liked having the company while she went through the training exercises that Derflinger had encouraged.

That had been a surprise, too. Against all expectations, Tabitha got on well with the most perverted sword imaginable (not that she really wanted to imagine more talking swords). _No, seriously, who does that?_

While she was still uneasy about the assertion that she was affiliated with the Founder's magic, it was certainly interesting to see the runes at work. Tabitha didn't look like the sort to heft a melee weapon, but the zeal with which she assaulted the training dummies she had coerced Guiche into making her was certainly something. _But why do they look like a smug with a beard?_

Turning to the redhead occupied with tickling under her salamander's chin, she added, "What about you, Zerbst?"

"Oh, my lovely peach, I didn't know you cared!" Louise was absorbed into the enthusiastic chest from which she responded.

"It was just a matter of courtesy, don't get the wrong idea." That her lack of struggling or attempting to free herself from Kirche's cleavage made it easy to have the wrong idea was not remarked upon by any present.

They didn't have a chance anyway, as a resounding crash sounded from just outside the wall.

* * *

If there was one thing that could mar a lovely late spring Day of Void, it would be golems pounding on the wall. There was, though it was impressively large, only one in this case, so the day was still salvageable from Old Osmond's perspective.

Until students involved themselves, that is.

He sighed. It _would_ be the headstrong daughter of Karin. And her familiar. And her familiar's familiar. And her familiar's breast friend. Best. Best friend. Quite.

"How like that family to summon something so completely ridiculous, though. The manticore was trouble enough..." Not that the Vallière child had summoned anything particularly huge, but in many ways binding oneself to foreign royalty, even royalty in exile, was much worse.

"And how curious that young Charlotte _agreed_ to this. Does she understand the stakes involved, that she is the familiar of the Void?" The noise of battle brought him back to the present unpleasantness.

"Ah, that's going to be expensive..." Louise had just blown a huge hole in the wall that had taken three square-class earth mages nearly a week to reinforce. Seemingly by accident. "I wonder if acts of Brimir are covered under warranty?"

By the time he realised he probably ought to step in and deescalate the situation, the thief had gotten away with a box he recognised very well. _The Staff of Destruction is probably not something we should allow on the black market, yes?_

"Miss... ah, what was it again? Oh yes, Miss Libreville, could you please summon the faculty and the young ladies Vallière, Zerbst, and... Hello? Miss? Dear me, where has my secretary gotten off to?"


	15. Loops Not Taken: The Part With the Goat

#AN: Kirche was telling a joke, but she was interrupted by Louise being interesting. In a different timeline, she got to the part with the goat and beyond.

* * *

Loops Not Taken 2: The Part With The Goat (and also the rest of the joke)

"So, there were two guys in the woods-"

"Why?"

"-and... err, 'why' what, exactly, Louise?"

"Why were they in the woods? We need context, woman!"

"Forbidden love," Tabitha offered. Cheeky little blueberry.

"It's really not important, dears. Let's just say they were hunting. May I continue?" When there were no protests, Kirche tried again. "Okay, so there were two men _hunting_ in the woods, and they found a hole."

"A hole?"

"Yes, a hole. Thing in the ground that happens when you dig downward? So they found this hole and one guy says to the other, 'I wonder how deep it is?'"

"Shouldn't they be asking why it's there in the first place?"

"That doesn't change anything." Louise huffed at that, but didn't say anything. "Anyway, first, they looked over the edge and couldn't see the bottom in the pitch blackness."

"Fly."

"Tabitha, they're commoners."

"Rope."

"They didn't have any." Tabitha furrowed her brow a bit at this.

"Unprepared." she finally admonished.

"Yes, well, that's neither here nor there. Are you done?" She waited a beat, expecting some further objection. "So-"

"Wait, why don't they have rope?"

"Oh, for crying out loud!"

"But that's important for dressing the kill! What, you think I know nothing of hunting? It's a dignified sport for nobility!"

"Louise, you go apoplectic at the first sign of dirt on your clothes, how do you expect me to believe you know anything about hunting?"

"I... I read about it," she admitted, cheeks rosy.

"I thought as much. Now, now, don't pout, you're cute just the way you are. May I finally... yes? Yes what? 'Yes, Miss Kirche, you may continue'? Very good, class. **Anyway!** " Kirche took a moment to sigh, more than half expecting another interruption.

"Anyway, after looking over they edge, they decided to drop a pebble in. It quickly fell out of sight and they listened, listened, listened... nothing. No sound. So after thinking for a moment, they decided to try a bigger rock. It took some doing, but one of them managed to find one about the size of a musk melon and dug it out. He lugged it over and they dropped it in the hole. They listened, listened, listened... no sound."

"Deep. Dangerous."

"Indeed. After a bit more planning, they decide to find something even bigger. They wander for a while until they find a railroad tie-"

"A what?"

"A railroad tie. You mean you... Ugh, no of _course_ you wouldn't! This backwards, inefficient hick country..." Kirche looked like she wanted to burn something more than usual, grumbling some very unkind things about the nation where she was receiving her education before she managed to calm herself. "Some day, dear Peach, I'll have to show you the marvels of rail transit. For now, think of a railroad tie as a dense rectangle of hardwood about as long as you are tall and probably twice my weight.

"So they found a railroad tie, dragged it over to the hole, and pushed it over the edge. They began to listen, but then, out of nowhere comes this _goat_. It bounds out of the bushes, dashes right between them, and jumps in the hole."

"Mysterious."

"The two men thought so, too. They pondered had just happened for a good couple minutes before a third man came into the clearing with the hole and asked, 'Hey, any y'all seen my goat?' The two men were apprehensive, but eventually one of them explained, 'It's the strangest thing we've ever seen. It came barrelling out of the brush and leapt in this hole!'" Kirche paused for effect, grinning ear-to-ear. _This is it, I love this punchline!_

"And the third man says, 'Aw well, that couldn't a' been MY goat. Mine was chained to a railroad tie!'"

Silence.

Dead silence.

Kirche's grin faltered at this reception. _Why!?_ _This one always goes over so well, too!_

"I don't get it."

"Awkward," Tabitha relented. Kirche could see the tiniest of upturned corners of her mouth, so she was amused, at least. Probably by the joke.

"Not bad, Top-Heavy! I'll give it a six out of ten. You've gotta control your audience better, though!"

"Yes, thank you, Derflinger, you're really helping. And I suppose you think you could-"

" ** _No!_** " Kirche's pout was cut off by the stereo shout of shorties.

"Aw, but I got some real raunchy ones!"

"Oh _do_ you, now? Tell me more!"

That incident marked the true start of Kirche and Derflinger's friendship.


	16. No Fly Zone

#AN: This is a much longer chapter for me; let's say it's in celebration of breaking 150 followers and 100 favourites! Truly, I thank you all for your support and kind words. And an extra special thanks to Poliamida, who helped tremendously by pointing out the bits where the first draft was rubbish.

* * *

Chapter 13: No Fly Zone

Everyone reacts to the calm just before battle differently. Tabitha knew this, but her penchant for working alone hadn't given her much opportunity to see it firsthand. In fact, the extent of her past observations was with Kirche, who was always jovial even after the action started. Case in point, she was chatting animatedly with Derflinger as though they were having an ordinary tea time. Tabitha knew from experience that it took a lot to make her dear friend become serious; Kirche would be fine. To Kirche's right, directly across from Tabitha, was Louise, who looked like she'd eaten something that alternated between delicious and foul.

 _Nerves. It has been a long time since I felt that way._ She vaguely remembered what it was like to be keyed up on adrenaline too early. _How unpleasant._ _And Ms. Loungeville...?_ She did a double take. When they had set out, Ms. Loungeville was completely relaxed, but now Tabitha saw very clearly that the woman was tightly coiled, even trembling slightly. _Fear? Anticipation?_ Without seeing her face, there was only so much that could be divined. Worse still, when she turned around to reassure Kirche for the seventh time that no, they were not there yet, there was no trace of the tension. She frowned. _Suspicious. Something is wrong._

Tabitha's reaction to an oncoming battle, incidentally, was a ritual of preparation. First, the equipment: Staff? Check. Two spare wands? Check. Potion pouches? Stocked. Boots, bracers, leather vest? Equipped. _I will need to consider more armour to go with these new additions,_ she noted. Vexatious talking sword? Check. Boot dagger? Check. Belt dagger? She paused. _Louise will not have anything but her single wand, no doubt. This may reassure her._

She untied the sheath from her belt and held the weapon out in offering. Startled from her reverie, Louise's eyes flitted back and forth between the dagger and Tabitha's face a few times. Tabitha shook it insistently and offered what she hoped was an encouraging almost-smile. Grimacing, Louise relented, startling slightly at the foreign weight as she gingerly took it. Good enough.

Next, intelligence review. _Terrain: forest, clearing, human structure._ _The openness helps movement, but fire is dangerous in woodlands. This must be quick and decisive. Forces: Myself, Kirche, and Louise immediately. Sylphid soon after. And our driver..._ On this one, Tabitha had many questions.

 _Point of order: All data was supplied by Ms. Loungeville, but what do I know about her?_ Part of Fouquet's formidable reputation was as a master of fast underground getaways, and the previous day's heist provided evidence that it was no empty story. So how did a school secretary manage to follow the elusive thief where the royal investigators failed? _Magic ability presumed, but unknown. Almost certainly earth aligned._ Class? Unknown. Other skills? Unknown. Combat value? _Apparently sufficient for tracking..._ Tabitha frowned again, not liking where that line of thought was headed. Quashing the sense of foreboding, she moved on.

* * *

"'We volunteer', I said. Me and my big mouth," she grumbled under her breath.

She had tried to appear confident, she really had! They may have seen a mere slip of a girl, with little to show for her family name but her mother's pink hair and terrible temper. But _she_ had stepped forward and accepted the task of recovering the Staff of Destruction where none of the cowardly - _Though assuredly more prepared_ , she thought bitterly - adults were willing. Even Mr. Colbert, who seemed awfully strong when he wasn't prattling on about whatever his most recent silly invention was, had lacked the guts.

She hoped they didn't see the that she was really quite frightened. But it was her fault the thief managed to get the artifact in the first place, which meant she had to do something.

 _Foremost: a noble must right what has been wronged!_ And if it happened to be a way to test how strong and wonderful her familiar truly was, so much the better! Silver linings!

"Of course, that doesn't mean I'm going to be much help." She sighed and her gaze darted about the confines of the rough covered wagon trundling through the forest, landing on her travelling companions briefly before pitching back downward to Tabitha's dagger still clenched in her grip. She considered trying to give it back, but Tabitha could outdo her on stubbornness when she put her mind to it. Resigned, she cinched the loop around her belt and resolved to forget about the barbaric tool _._ _Great, one step closer to barbarism and common Germanian thuggery._

"What am I doing? What are _we_ doing?" she sighed. They had Tabitha with wind and some water magic (and a sword) and Kirche with fire magic. If Fouquet came back with that huge golem... _This is a bad matchup no matter how I look at it._

"Oh, my Peach, what ever is the matter? Hello? Louise, dear~! No? Ignoring me like that..." Kirche, ever a woman of action, decided to take the direct route.

"Aw yeah, now _that's_ what I'm talkin' about! You go, girl!" The awful sword was pleased. Louise was not.

"Uwaaah! Kirche! Gwarbh, get off! Bad Zerbst, no biscuit!" As quickly as she had latched on, Kirche let go, freeing Louise's face from her cleavage.

"Got your attention, have I? Good. You've been moping since you volunteered yourself, and my chilly little Blueberry by extension. Why are you here if you're so worried?"

"She's right, you know, Miss Vallière. Fouquet is a dangerous criminal and you are but a student. If you want to abandon this errand, there's still time." The secretary at the reins - _What's her name, Loungechair? Something like that..._ \- jumped into the conversation, looking back with concern written on her face.

"No! Keep going, I won't take sympathy from the devil or a Zerbst. I have to see this through," she recovered with a grandiose gesture and nearly shouted, "Foremost: a noble must right what has been wronged!"

 _That's right, haha, how could I forget? I don't have time to be afraid; I have a holy duty as a noble. I have to find a way to help!_ Fortunately, she _had_ help.

Looking down at the slip of parchment she had been passed, she found Tabitha was already taking her into account:

 _Mount Sylphid and fly holding pattern. Gather yourself for the largest attack spell you can muster; release at the golem when I call 'fire' or there's a very clear opening. Aim for the middle. Kirche will harass from the ground_ _._

Brow crinkling in confusion, she caught Tabitha's eye and gestured toward the back of their green-haired driver. Receiving a slow shake of the head, she raised an eyebrow. Well, it was a plan of sorts.

* * *

Reviewing the plan in her head (the final part of her pre-battle ritual), Tabitha hoped she wasn't making a huge mistake in allowing Louise to come along in the first place. Taking to the air astride her trusted dragon companion would mitigate much of the risk and she really _did_ need a trump against the earth construct, but their prior skirmish with the golem left her with little doubt of the girl's experience:

 _Nil. If I'm forced to call her, I can only hope she aims well this time..._ Triangle-class mage though she was, Tabitha's offensive repertoire for water wasn't very impressive, and it was her non-dominant element anyway; Fouquet was easily a triangle herself, so that avenue wasn't going to work. _I'll need to rectify that deficiency. I'm not strong enough if an opponent of this level can stand against me._ Kirche... was a distraction. _But she is good at that... in combat, too._ Mastering her face to suppress the slight blush, she considered her own role.

Tabitha was the linchpin of her own plan and the bulk of the fighting was on her shoulders. In another time, on a different battlefield, she would have kept to the air, taking advantage of her dragon with the other two. But after the previous encounter from which the thief had escaped entirely unscathed, she had decided it was necessary to innovate. _T_ _his gambit may be dangerous.  
_

* * *

It was midday by the time they reached the shack where Loungeville claimed to have tracked Fouquet. Well, more like a cabin, situated at the edge of a roughly round clearing about 50 mail across in the middle of the deciduous woodlands south of the school. It was surprisingly well-built, speaking to the skill of the builder, and appeared to have been there for some time if the grass and other plants were any indication. Tabitha considered the scenario before her. Yes, something most certainly stank.

 _It's been a whole day,_ she noted. _Why would she still be here? This isn't a good location and there's a path fit for a wagon straight to it. There's no way she would loiter, and even if she only has average willpower she should be able to make a much greater distance. Further, there's no reason for her to use an above-ground safe house..._

"Suspicious." Tabitha put a hand on Louise's shoulder to prevent her from wandering headlong into the light as she made this assessment.

"You think so too, huh? I don't think he'll be around if he's as good as they say." Kirche had come to stand by her side, eyeing the structure with distaste.

"Woman." It was something like an agreement.

"Eh? Really now. She has horrible fashion sense! If she's stealing so much, why would she dress so frumpy?" Waving the question off, she refocused on the topic at hand. "So, trap, you think?"

"Affirmative."

"Now, now, it's not nice to make fun of the less fortunate, you little trollop!" came a familiar voice from behind them. Whipping about, the three students themselves face to face with...

"Miss Lightweight? You're still here?" Louise asked.

Tabitha's eyes widened as she realised who _set_ the trap. _No plan survives contact with the enemy, after all._

"Nasty business, but I can't let you get the Staff and I can't let you go back to the academy alive!" Her wand was pointed right at the group and they were bunched together...

 _I suppose this is it._ _Good bye, old friend._ With that thought, she whispered a quiet spell, _Air Hammer,_ and her faithful staff flew from her hand at high speed, forcing their ambusher to defend with a dirt wall. It proved to be enough.

"Run!" It was the loudest she had spoken in months. Not even looking to see if Kirche was following the order, she grabbed Derflinger's hilt in one hand, allowing the strength enhancement to wash over her, and hoisted a wriggling Louise over her shoulder with the other. She sprinted into the woods as a loud rumble signaled the workings of high-grade earth magic.

As she dodged frantically past trunks, she tried to formu-

"Hey, what's the big idea? Tabitha, why did you panic? Can you put me down, this is uncomfortable. Why did you leave Kirche and Miss Loungewart?"

-to save a little girl from an untimely and extremely messy death. Getting words in between large breaths, she answered in a staccato of single word responses.

"Regroup. Trap. No. Faster. Fouquet." That seemed to mollify her so-called master, and she got back to the task of figuring out what to do. _She can't pursue quickly without wasting her golem, and my retreat was probably a surprise. Kirche probably went the other way, so I can't rely on her... I need another clearing to call Sylphid; air will be an advantage. Unless..._ Tabitha slowed to a halt and scanned the treetops. _Tight, but doable._

"Girlie, I'm an attack buff, not a speed buff!"

"Hush." Setting Louise on her feet and making a hushing motion, she pulled her emergency wand from her belt and released the sword... and nearly fell over from the exertion catching up to her!

"Guh!"

"Tabitha!" She winced at how unnecessarily loud the concerned yelp was, but accepted the steadying hand. Taking a few moments, to catch her breath and listen for signs of pursuit, she explained what they would do next.

"I will fly you to Sylphid. Prepare your casting." Making a few short motions with the wand, she hooked an arm about Louise's waist. "Hold tight. We go." They began to rise slowly, angling toward the gap in the forest canopy. It wasn't meant to be. A large blob of dirt and mud whizzed by, nearly clipping her arm, the force of its passage throwing her spinning into a tree. Crying out in pain at the blow to her hip, she managed to soften their landing with the last dregs of the interrupted spell. _Another plan down._ she thought bitterly.

"I don't think so, runt!" Rising from the earth between the trees with her golem, the fake secretary made her presence known. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you capture me today, and now that you've seen my face I can't let you get away!" Making sure Louise was capable of moving, she turned to face the interloper with a glare.

"Louise, run. I'll stall." She switched the wand to her off hand and drew Derflinger.

"Wha- that's crazy, you'll die!"

"Sorry I wasn't greater than a dragon. Now go!" Not waiting for a response, she moved to engage the golem and rider.

"Fighting an earth mage in the woods, are you just book smart, miss genius?" The taunt came with a lumbering punch from the stone humanoid. Dodging nimbly, the section of tree trunk behind Tabitha was obliterated, the remaining tree falling awkwardly to catch between two other trees.

 _That's dangerous. I need to watch my footing._ In spite of this, several more trees were felled as she leapt about, trying to find an opening for a counterattack.

"Got you!" The singsong of her opponent rang out clear and Tabitha leapt with all her strength by sheer instinct. Though she made it airborne, her trajectory was altered by the ground giving way beneath her feet that same instant. Landing awkwardly and stumbling, she found herself backed against the intersection of two fallen trees. _She's... good. Is this...?_

"Huh, nimble little thing, you are. Far better than your age would suggest. I don't know what you've been through to do so well so young, but I'll at least make sure you receive a hero's buria-"

"Fireball!" With an enormous concussion, the entire left side of the golem _disappeared_. Shock was plain on all of their faces, each for different reasons. "Tabitha, I hit it! I had to wait for it to stop moving, and I was a little off, but-"

"Fool! I said run!"

"The Vallière girl!?" Taking advantage of the opening the explosion provided, Tabitha finally had time to cast a spell: Flight. "Fine, you first!" There was a blood-curdling scream as the reforming golem threw a large piece of itself at the pink girl. Tabitha saw red.

"Oryaaaah!" Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt never expected a tiny blue girl with a big sword to come flying headlong into her. Without time to raise an earthen shield, she was finally forced to abandon her golem, which started to fall apart immediately. Tabitha pressed the attack in a rage and they danced through the trunks of the dense wilderness, Tabitha unable to manoeuvre the tight space well enough to bring her blade to bear; the tired earth mage unable to line up a clear shot.

"Girlie, calm down or you're going to-" With a mighty swing, Tabitha embedded Derflinger into a tree trunk with such force that her hands slipped from the hilt! "Oof, felt that one!" The fatigue of prolonged combat catching up to her once again, she hit the ground as her spell dissolved and she fell prone on her back. It was suddenly quiet.

Panting, a wary Fouquet stepped out from behind the tree, gulping audibly to see the rusty old blade was half a mail through it. Standing before Tabitha, she pointed her bent wand shakily.

"All right. Enough. I don't want this any more than you do, but if you stop trying to resist, I can at least make it qui-"

"Yah!" The little yelp was the only warning either of the two exhausted mages had before the pommel of a dagger hit the thief square on the shoulder and clattered to the forest bed. "Oh come on, it always works in the stories!"

"- _Do you **mind!?**_ Augh, that smarts! Little girl, you are becoming an incredible thorn in my-" Even though she was a complete basketcase on the battlefield, Louise had now saved Tabitha twice in one day with her foolishness. Though her body screamed in protest, though her limbs felt like lead even after she stretched out to grab the fallen sidearm, Tabitha made the distraction count. With one last push from her wobbly legs, she tackled the older woman, and positioned the blade at her neck.

Panting, for a few moments, Fouquet took in the grim set of Tabitha's face, her snapped wand, and the pointed steel threatening her throat and seemed to shrink, relaxing into the ground.

"I just can't get a break today. So this is how it ends, huh?"

"The staff."

"Oh, it's in the house in the clearing. I was going to seal you kids in there and spirit it away before you escaped." She sighed. "Look, can you at least show me the mercy of making this quick?"

"You wish, criminal! We're bringing you to justice!" Louise saw fit to step in at this point.

"Oh? Justice, is it? And what is justice, little child?" The tension that had been slowly draining from the situation was back full force and Fouquet's agitation caused the shaky dagger to draw a bit of blood.

"A disgrace like you could never understand. Using power for evil-"

"Ha! You said a noble rights what was wronged. Who decides that? What was right about my family being brought low with treachery and deceit? What's right about Tiffa being hounded constantly simply for being born? You talk of right and wrong, but you've never lifted a finger to help those kids, just like all the other so-called nobles. Your 'justice' is as empty as your 'nobility'!" The sheer venom in her words forced Louise to take a step back.

Tabitha, however, took an intense interest in the content of the tirade. Though it was only for a moment, she felt as though she was looking in a mirror; that there was something in those eyes she understood acutely. _Mother..._

"I see." Shocking the others, she pulled her dagger back and shifted her body until she was sitting near Fouquet's feet, mostly relaxed. Louise was the first of the two dumbstruck women to gather her wits sufficiently to form a response.

"What. No, wait, Tabitha, what are you thinking! You're leaving a..." gesturing weakly at the still-prone thief, she realised "deadly" wasn't especially fitting, "...leaving Fouquet unrestrained!"

"Whatever, even if I had the willpower left to beat you two, the bouncy one is still fresh. My goose is cooked either way." Suddenly looking twice her age, the Crumbling Dirt attempted to ease herself to a sitting position, but winced after few degrees and lay back down. "Yeah, that's not happening. I think that last take down messed up my back, so you can basically discount me as a threat." Tabitha motioned Louise closer, making a gesture at the spot next to her.

"Sit. Story time."

"Tabitha, I hardly think this is the time!"

"It is." After what she had heard and seen, she was all but certain of it. "Because we're the same. You." Ignoring the squawked protest of disbelief from her friend, she fixed the subdued thief with the a severe look. "Who are you fighting for?"

"Who...?" The erstwhile secretary's eyes widened as she realised she had blown her own cover story when that little shit noble had incensed her. _Oh gods, I didn't want to risk her like this, but something tells me she'll see through any ruse. But I have to try._ "Y-you mean why do I steal?"

"Incorrect. Who do you protect?"

"I..."

"Answer, Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt!" There was silence between them for nearly a minute as the haunted guilt writ large on their prisoner's face. Closing her eyes, she began to speak at a slow, measured pace.

"Mathilda," she began. "My name is Mathilda de Saxe-Gotha. My runic name is Sculptor." And story time began in earnest. It was the tale of an Albion archduke and his concubine, and the retainer family that was brought down with him when political rivals publicised his "transgressions", collateral damage in a nobles' power play.

Bereft of her mother and father, the child of the mistress was the closest thing to family she still had. A saintly and benevolent girl hunted simply because she dared to exist. Tiffania, that dear bosom sister, was Mathilda's world.

So when the secret light of her life ("always secret; I could never tell her so") decided to take in an orphan boy she was happy to help, to put her noble education to work as the "breadwinner" for their little "family". Then there was another orphan. And a third and the twins and more. They had become a nascent orphanage.

"I put everything I had into keeping them fed and clothed and tried to find them homes or at least a patron. With the tax hikes after Duke Westwood died, no commoners were in a position to increase their burden, and none of those gutless nobles gave a damn about an orphanage run by two wet-behind-the-ears disgraced noble girls. But with a lot of work and odd jobs on my part, things... things weren't great, but they were... survivable. Until winter. Are you familiar with winters in Albion? A wind mage could explain it all better, I imagine, but the winds and snow are not to be trifled with.

That winter, we... we lost two. It was hard on everyone, but especially on Tiffa. Even though she can't even use magic, she blamed herself." Mathilda's voice cracked a little at this point, revealing the lie of her composure, but also prompting a coughing fit that have way to pained groaning. Frowning slightly, Tabitha rummaged in her belt pouch and drew three blue vials. Downing one, she handed the others to Louise.

"Drink one, administer the other," she directed. Curiosity and no small amount of trust in Tabitha won out over pride, and she followed the command obediently. Mathilda eyed the potion suspiciously, but wasn't in a position to argue as the contents were unceremoniously dumped into her open mouth. After a few moments, the injured woman was at least breathing properly and some of her superficial injuries had cleared. Gingerly, she eased herself into a sitting position, eyeing Tabitha warily.

"Those are some strong curatives to waste on your enemy, girl. What is this? Pity?"

"Continue." Shrugging, she dropped back into her tale.

"After that winter, I redoubled my own efforts, taking on more and more...ah, 'questionable' clients. We were up to a dozen children when I was first contacted to knock over a petty noble's vault for some contested bauble." She took on a nostalgic mien at this.

"It was... easy. So, so very easy. But better still?

"It felt _great_.

"That was when I crafted the Fouquet persona and shifted more and more of my major moneymaking to...'asset recovery'. It gave me an outlet I hadn't even known I needed: revenge against _all_ the thrice-damned blue bloods who've never known what it's like to be a victim. Silver spoon scoundrels who will never need to scrimp and suffer and lose what's precious to them simply because they were born in the wrong place at the wrong time! It did wonders for my complexion, I can tell you that much.

"I kept up appearances with a day job, of course - my secretarial position at the academy isn't just for that damn pervert to ogle my underthings, you know - but that pittance barely covers the cost of living for two people, let alone twenty." She had steadily deflated as she drew to a close, pinning the young idealist in place with a brittle, haunted stare.

"You say you want justice. You say you want wrongs righted. Do you see now, Louise Françoise le Blanc de la Vallière? You cannot have both."

* * *

Breaching the long silence that followed that declaration, Tabitha rose shakily to her feet and started to hobble toward the tree where her sword had been abandoned.

"Oh, so now you remember ol' Derf, huh! Girlie, you're a real piece of work, huh? I mean it's good to commune with nature, and I can't remember the last time I was this intimate with a tree, but how in the world do you-"

"Enough." With that, she began to work him free of his prison, ignoring his protests at this new cruelty.

Louise, still digesting Mathilda's circumstances, didn't even have the wherewithal to protest that Tabitha had left her with the enemy. Or if she was even really an enemy to begin with.

 _Well, she definitely broke the law. Stealing is wrong, and she liked doing it._ She reasoned. _But what about the children?_ The other side of the equation was heavy indeed. _We're supposed to protect the common folk, so there's virtue in that. What does it mean to protect, though? Is providing for orphans part of our duty as nobility? Not that that justifies stealing; there must have been some legal recourse?_ She tried to think of something similar to compare to, and came to a startled realisation. _Oh wait, she was hired, like a mercenary! Father even employs them at times. But are mercenaries culpable for doing their job? Surely, the one who hired them is the real bad guy..._ So rationalised, she felt much more comfortable with the situation. Mathilda wasn't bad; just on the job! And her cause was clearly just. Being young and a bit sheltered, Louise wasn't familiar with the time-honoured tradition of executing captured mercenaries, of course...

"It seems you've been greatly wronged," she finally admitted, "and while your line of work is... dubious, the reason is admirable. Still, we can't just let you make off with... come to think of it, why were you robbing a _school_? What kind of lout wants _that_ done?" Matilda chuckled at the fallacy that had taken root in the otherwise-intelligent girl's head.

"It must be nice to be able to see the world in black and white like that. The 'louts' are all nobles. Every last one, it's always nobles after some specific thing. You're right that a school, even a noble school, is usually off-limits, but this time the client was very insistent and the pay... you have to understand, the orphanage isn't well funded despite what I've done. The sum I was offered could keep us comfortably open into next summer!" She began to tear up at the realisation that she wouldn't be able to settle at home any longer. "Damn you kids," she hissed. Tabitha had wandered back, using the sheathed Derflinger as a makeshift cane, when the money had been mentioned.

"Who hired you?" Supplying that many people for more than a year, it had to be a thousand Ecú at least; this wasn't some small time heist with that kind of money.

"The church!" She crowed, "A dark-skinned nun in white hired me to recover an artifact of the Founder. Some battleaxe calling herself 'Sheffield'... weirdest client, but-" the thief was cut off by Tabitha dragging her by the collar to eye level in a surprising show of strength.

"Tell me everything." It was then that Mathilda discovered exactly how intimidating a girl under fourteen hands could be. The desperation, the rage, the-

"Yoohoo! Is that my lovely ladies I see?"

-Kirche. The spell broken by a timely interruption, Tabitha's façade slipped back into place so completely that Mathilda had to wonder if it wasn't just her imagination. Setting her back down awkwardly, the youngest mage muttered a vague apology, though the intensity of her stare made it obvious they had more to talk about.

* * *

The ride back to the academy was awkward. Even Kirche's ability to cut through tension with her over-the-top antics failed to affect the solemn, stoic Louise; the jumpy, agitated Tabitha; and brittle, hollow "Ms. Loungeville". Kirche narrowed her eyes at that last one. When she sauntered into the devastated battleground, she hadn't expected... any of it, really. Any other occasion, she would have found these odd new roles a novelty, but the one driving the wagon and its cargo of three girls and one stolen artifact back to the place said artifact was stolen from was the very one who had stolen it.

Tabitha had given her the cryptic summary, "similar circumstances", and stayed her hand, but she didn't like it. _Of course, when my little tabby kitten gets in a mood and lets her claws out like this, there's no stopping her._ Shuddering at the amount of metaphorical upholstery that she was expecting to be shredded soon, she decided to follow at a safe distance.

* * *

#AN: Sometimes, I worry that you can tell the difference between the stuff I wrote a year ago and the more recent. In some ways, it's turning out to be just as much effort to edit these as it is to write brand new content. And I'm not much for high-action fight scenes, really. I feel like I can only make them tolerable by focusing on the motion. I do that a with most scene setting, because I figure you all have pretty good imaginations, right?


	17. An Extended Metaphor for Mondays

#AN: I'm not happy with this chapter at all; it's fought me at every turn, called me names, and insulted my couch. I love my couch! Not that all of the last two months was spent blocked on this. No, mostly, I've been playing Monster Hunter.

* * *

Chapter 14: An Extended Metaphor for Mondays

The youth branch of Tristain's _Académie Royale de Magique et de Sorcellerie_ was a school full of teenagers, so naturally everyone knew the gist of the "secret mission" and who was involved inside of about half an hour. Their late-afternoon return to the academy was met with mixed reactions. Disbelief was common: _Louise the Zero_ had accomplished something? Impossible.

As was some manner of jubilation that the artifact from the vault had been recovered, thus proving the superiority of mages over the forces of burglary.

A small contingent took one look at the bearing of the returned party marching purposefully through the school and quickly decided they had other places to be. _I_ _mmediately_. This latter group's reaction was probably most sensible.

Not that Louise actually cared what any of them thought. No, she was busy thinking. Digesting. Planning.

 _Not plotting! I'm definitely not plotting! A noble does not plot._

It was only when they were directly outside Old Osmond's office door that Louise came to a conclusion. It wasn't one she liked, but it was what she had to do. Stopping short, she raised a hand.

"Hold." All eyes on her, she took a steadying breath, squared her shoulders, and said simply, "I'll handle this. Follow my lead."

Rapping twice on the door and then opening it without waiting for a response she entered the office with the other three mages close behind.

"Louise de la Vallière and party, bring news of a successful recovery." Also inside, standing before the lavish desk of the literal and figurative seat of power in the school, were Professor Colbert and a statuesque, lightly-armoured blonde woman with three pistols and a scimitar at her hip. Smoothly, they parted to either side of the headmaster's desk to give them an unobstructed view of the beaming elder magus.

"My, Miss Vallière, you're back so soon! And you have the staff?" Louise nodded to Tabitha who set the box down on a side table and opened it. It was only once she lifted it for presentation that she realised its true nature. She hesitated a moment, fighting down the urge to shoulder this round metal... thing... as her runes told her was intended. "Indeed, that is certainly it! Joyous day! And what of the thief, Fouquet?" At this, Louise's expression hardened.

"Unfortunately, we were unable to capture her alive. The explosion... it is possible that she may have survived it, but I believe it unlikely."

"Oh my, I'm... Dear me. Jean, could you-", the wizened wizard started to make a request of Professor Colbert, but Louise wasn't finished.

" _More pressingly_ , we acquired some sensitive information that must be taken to the Crown with all possible haste. I'm afraid we'll be borrowing your secretary again, as she is also a witness." The warrior lady raised an eyebrow at that but remained silent.

"Oh? Well, let's hear it then," Osmond said expectantly.

"With all due respect, headmaster, this is a matter of state." Tabitha spoke up, having realised Louise apparently had a cogent plan after all. The headmaster eased back in his chair and fiddled with his beard a little before relenting.

"Very well then, Miss Vallière. Will you at least grace us this night with your presence at an event held in honor of your achievements, or are the heroes of the hour to be missing from their feast?" Louise cast a look over their impromptu party. Dirty, scuffed, torn, and weary, they were in no condition to travel. But neither did she wish to diminish the urgency of the errand. Meeting his twinkling eyes with a sharp glare that apparently ran in the family, she shook her head once.

"Regrettably, this is a matter of some urgency. When we are clean and a healer has seen to us, we dep-" A low rumble rolled through the room, startling her into silence. It took her several seconds of casting about and finding all eyes on her midsection to realise it was her own stomach, protesting its emptiness after most of a day on the road. Tabitha fixed her with a look.

"A cry for help," she quipped, before adding in her usual dry monotone, "Tomorrow morning, Louise. Exhaustion is a greater risk in night travel." Louise met her challenging gaze for a moment, and conceded the point with a huff.

"Right. Fine. We ride at dawn. Good news, Headmaster Osmond: if you start immediately, we may appear at your party by pure happenstance." Relenting, Osmond nodded his acquiescence at the youngest child of Karin. _How alike they truly are,_ he mourned. _She never did hesitate to throw herself into a difficult life._

"Then by your leave, sir, we have much to do." Turning primly on one heel, she strode out without a backwards glance. The others, she had no doubt, would follow. She didn't expect the extra, though.

They were halfway down the deserted administrative office corridor when an unfamiliar voice pierced her rumination on the transport problem they faced in the morning.

"Not bad, noble girl. You could go into theatre if you weren't busy playing politics. You almost had me fooled." It was the gun-toting woman.

"And who are you to be addressing me so casually, _commoner_?" Drawing herself up to her full height of fifteen-two hands, she came up to the blonde's collar bones.

"Heh, you've got spunk. I see why she likes you. Name's Agnes; captain of Princess Henrietta's personal guard. So the thief totally lived, right?" Caught off guard by the casual manner, close association with her _de facto_ ruler, and the dismantling of her ruse, Louise could only sputter incoherently.

"It's the way you described it that tipped me off," she continued. "The second rule of deception is to always use the truth liberally and creatively. If you had said she escaped, that'd probably have been enough. I'm guessing you're not used to deceit?" Louise was so red she looked like she was about to pop when Agnes took all the fight out of her with an offer.

"While Fouquet yet lives, it's not a lie that you have something important to say. I need to report back to her anyway, so I'll let her know her long lost playmate is coming to see her in the morning. Void Tower, ground floor, third door. Toodles!"

"Hey," strolling past the gaping group with a contented smirk, Agnes was stopped by a parting question from the pink firebrand still bristling at her treatment, "what's the first rule then, huh?"

"The first rule of deception is to make it your truth." And then she slipped away before they could press her for more information.

No, it definitely wasn't a conclusion Louise liked one bit, but what had to be done had to be done. Because she was a noble and it was the right thing to do, dammit! Kirche took the liberty of summarising the entire visit to the central tower with her usual eloquence.

"What in the seven hells just happened?"

"The Princess is on campus," Tabitha observed. "Why?"

That was enough to bring Louise back to the present. _Stick to the plan._

"Good point, Tabitha. That actually works out very nicely for us, too; why didn't the headmaster mention it? We'll seek audience in the morning. Come on, let's eat," she called over her shoulder. "And ohhh no you don't, you're coming too, _Ms. Limburger_. You're also one of the 'heroes', now." Mathilda, who had been letting herself fall back in an attempt to disengage from the group, shot her a dirty look but acquiesced to the demand, Kirche taking up the rear as insurance.

"You're doing that on purpose," she grumbled. "You must be."

* * *

Kirche had to marvel that Louise had probably never seen a train - possibly never even heard of them! - for all that she resembled one as she nearly marched them through the passages of the office block to the great hall. In her single-minded pursuit of victuals, questions were ignored, toes were stepped on, puppies were kicked. It was total carnage.

"Maid!" Reaching their destination, they had beelined to a secluded table in the corner closest to the kitchen, and Louise wasted no time calling for service.

 _Well, not "secluded" so much._ _I think I'd call it merely aloof, rea-  
_

"Yes Miss Vallière?" Kirche's blinked in surprise at the immediate response right next to her, but Louise didn't miss a beat, rattling off an order that could be summarised as "bring us a pile of food, pronto". If the busty black-tressed bob-cut serving girl felt put upon from being co-opted by a student, she did an admirable job of not showing it. "Right away, miss." And then the maid was _gone_.

 _I must be more tired than I thought. I don't think I blinked?_ She scanned her other table mates, nonplussed. They didn't seem to notice anything off, so she dismissed-

"As you requested, Miss Vallière, early supper and head chef Marteau suggested this red wine to go with it."

 _Woah. Okay. Kirche, you clearly need your beauty sleep.  
_

"Yes, very good. Excellent work, you may return to your duties." With the contents of the serving cart swiftly transferred to the table, Louise and Tabitha wasted no time digging in. Between mouthfuls, Louise also finally decided to elaborate on what she was planning.

"Right, so here's the deal. When you," she gestured at Mathilda with her half-eaten turkey leg, "explained what you were doing and why, you told me that it's not possible to right wrongs and have justice." She took a long pull of wine from her goblet and set it down roughly for effect. "I happen to disagree. Vehemently. So I'm going to fix your problem." If she realised she had struck them all dumb, she didn't acknowledge it, gnawing her way through a buttered croissant. To Mathilda's credit, she recovered quickly.

"Those are some bold words, girl," she sneered. Louise rolled her eyes and continued as though the thief hadn't said anything.

"And when I succeed - note that's a 'when' not an 'if'," she intoned ominously, "when I succeed, you will belong to me." Kirche took this as her cue.

"My, my, Louise, I didn't know you were into that sort of play! Should I be bringing rope and cuffs when I visit?" Louise stared at her for a long moment, before the dawning comprehension of how her words could be taken manifested itself as a brilliant full-face blush.

 _Ah hah, there it is, there it is! There. It. Is!_

"Noooo, I mean fealty! Allegiance! Since I'm going to prove that I'm right and worthy and... and you are awful, Zerbst! Bad dog!"

"Ah, collar and leash it is, then... master."

At that, Louise turned her nose up at Kirche and focused on eating, steadfastly refusing to acknowledge her again until after they visited the infirmary to make sure they were all in good shape.

* * *

Despite the stresses of the day, it was proving to be a normal night much like any other _.  
_

 _Finding out we don't have to make a trip into the city certainly helps,_ she mused. Tabitha was propped up in bed, reading...

 _To Serve Man? I thought she said it was a cookbook._

Louise was similarly leaned against the headboard with a weathered book she had heard might have information on the Void.

 _I'd call it heretical, but it's such a laughable fantasy that my heart's just not in it. Metal and wood aren't elements and this has far too much brawling. Who comes up with these silly things?_

The lack of an author mark ensured that answer was lost to the ages. Kirche, never much one for reading before bed, was contentedly curled up in Louise's lap.

 _Is she... purring? Wait, no, better to just not think about it._

Normal.

New normal, that is; the recent normalcy reforms had done much to prevent weird things from happening. Now, they were normal things.

She could have known it wouldn't last.

* * *

It began innocently enough, with a knock at the door. There's nothing untoward about knocking on doors, even if it happens to be somewhat late for unplanned visitors.

"Kirche, can you get that?" Groaning in protest, but not sufficiently catlike to avoid being useful, she sauntered over to the door and opened it to confront... a cultist?

 _I thought everyone knew the dark hooded cloak look is super passé,_ she thought irritably.

"May I help you?" Curt seemed reasonable. Disturbing Kirche's skinship is a serious _faux pas_ , after all. The figure at the door stiffened at the greeting.

"Ah, my apologies. Is this not Louise de La Vallière's room?" Okay, so not a cultist. A woman. Visiting in the night.

 _Now this, I can use._ The not-so-cultist barely had time for an "eep" at the toothy grin she received when Kirche latched on and unceremoniously hauled her into the room.

"Louise, you scamp! I didn't know you had it in you!" Presenting the unfortunate caller triumphantly, her hands began to wander. "Pushing me away all this time when you already have another, why didn't you say anything!?" The captive squirmed and squealed protest a bit as Kirche cupped a breast and traced the other along her hip, "And such a lovely figure, too! What's your secret?"

In the midst of the struggle, the hood fell. With a clear view of who exactly it was the Germanian was feeling up, everyone froze. Clearing her throat, Louise narrowed her eyes.

"Kirche? Could you please do us all a _huge_ favour?" It sounded sweet, but there was a certain... "danger" to her tone that only fanned Kirche's flames.

"Oh, my peach! You know I am yours for the taking as well; this changes my feelings not one bit!" Eyebrow twitching, Louise savagely clamped down on the urge to blow her up, ignored the extremely Kirche-like misconception, and continued.

"Could you **please** stop molesting the princess?" Eyes widening in recognition of the purple hair, she craned her head over the cloaked shoulder and found herself face to face with a deeply blushing monarch.

"Well, this is awkward." The most unusual thing to happen that night may well have been Kirche demonstrating any capacity for sheepishness.

"Indeed."

Beat.

"By the by, you may unhand my breast now."


	18. Playing for an Audience

#AN: Wow̧ so this one got away from me something fierce. Henrietta, would you fall in line and stick to the plan, please?

* * *

Chapter 15: Playing for an Audience

Louise sprang to extricate the flustered Henrietta from Kirche's deviancy and followed it up with a frantic apology.

"Princess Henrietta, we are humbled by your august presence. And, though it be not my place to do so, I beseech you forgive me for allowing this unworthy wretch to assault your person on my watch!"

"Why, Louise Françoise! Must you address me so formally when we're childhood friends?" Louise had only just opened her mouth to respond when Kirche, who had begun wrapping herself around Louise with the surety of a boa constrictor, cut in.

"Childhood friend!? That makes her my toughest love rival!" Being Kirche, she naturally glossed over the power dynamics that most nobles would care about and hastened capture of her prey. Louise rounded on her at this point.

"And _you_! How _dare_ you just-" though her mouth kept moving, all sound from that side of the room had ceased.

With a barely perceptible sigh, Tabitha set down her bedside wand, leaving the epic battle of outrage versus teasing to be seen but not heard. Politely hiding her giggle, Henrietta watched the interaction for a moment before turning to the bookish bespectacled waif on the bed.

"Silence spell?" Tabitha looked up from her book and nodded. "You were awfully quick about it. Does this sort of thing," she gestured at the comically quiet bickering to her right, "happen often, then?" Another nod. The princess shifted uneasily, unused to the soul of brevity that was Tabitha. "W-well then, since she is... indisposed, would you mind doing introductions? Louise Françoise," Tabitha didn't miss the wistful reverence when she spoke the name, "and I are acquainted, but I'm afraid I don't know the rest of you..." Tabitha finally set aside her literature and gestured at herself.

"Tabitha. Friend." She gestured slightly to the redhead, "Kirche. Idiot."

"I... see. And the other one?" Tabitha was somewhat perturbed to find, upon examining the room again, that a maid had entered and started pouring tea for four.

 _When did she come in?_ ** _How_** _did she come in?_

Deciding to set that matter aside for now, she simply answered, "Maid."

"Well, I am truly glad to see Louise has found such... lovely friends!" She eyed the silent battle warily as she said this. Kirche looked to have gotten the upper hand and Louise's top three buttons were undone. She swallowed audibly. "Yes! Well! Regrettably, I must take my leave now before Agnes notices I've given her the slip! It was... err, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Tabitha; please, do give Louise my regards and I'm sure I'll be able to catch up with her better when we meet tomorrow."

At Tabitha's nod, she made to leave only to stop mid-turn and stare at the scene before her. Louise's blouse was but a memory, the camisole was slipping off-shoulder, her skirt was pooled at her feet, and her head was buried between two Germanian mountains. Notably, her tirade appeared to be continuing unabated.

"...it's... always like this?"

* * *

After years of jeers and insults, Louise was not an especially confident girl. Oh, she had her moments, the prior afternoon's encounter with the headmaster being a prime example, and she was as tenacious as they come. But that was different.

He wasn't _The Princess_.

Suffice to say, she was a nervous wreck as they waited just inside the door of the Void tower for Tabitha to return with the last person of interest.

 _This is bad. This is very bad. She probably thinks I'm a woman of loose morals now. And the disrespect I showed... she must have left in disgust. Oh no, she'll throw me in a dungeon! Or banish me to Germania! Or-  
_

" _Mathilda!_ So glad you could make it, dove!" Kirche, who couldn't read the air in the best of situations, was strangely cheerful.

"Because I had a choice?"

"Well, we _were_ rather worried you might skive off in the dead of night."

"You threatened to sic a literal dragon on me," Mathilda deadpanned.

"Like I said, we **were** worried."

Clearing her throat, Louise took on the grave tone of one facing their imminent end.

"Pipe down. Here's the plan: you two ruffians stay out here until summoned; Kirche, you get to look after our 'guest' while I try to beg lenience after your unprovoked assault last night."

Nodding sharply, she rapped smartly on the door which opened a moment later to reveal _that commoner_ , Agnes, looking much more like a professional soldier than the overbearing, smug, brutish, disrespectful... Louise wasn't about to forget her treatment, but there were more important things to worry about than punishing some ribald guard for their trespass.

"Good, you're here. She's waiting." Stiff formality, though a little brusque. _Acceptable, given the station of who she's attached to._ Steeling herself one last time, she stepped into the maw.

 _Foremost: a noble takes responsibility for their actions!_

* * *

It was, Tabitha mused, a _very_ nice office. Far nicer than she could have expected from the "storage outbuilding" role students were told the Void tower served. She stopped just inside the door, a respectful distance back, as did Agnes, who was watching her with an unreadable expression. She ever so slightly raised an eyebrow and decided it wasn't important. Louise had moved forward several steps along the rich stripe of green carpet. Whereupon she stopped, standing stock still before Henrietta sitting impassively behind the lavish mahogany desk with a _bas-relief_ carving of the Royal Family Crest on the front panel. For a pregnant moment, they wondered if she had locked up and would need a restart until she bowed nearly double and spoke.

"A thousand pardons for impinging upon your invaluable time, your highness! I beg your forgiveness, but we have urgent need of your-" she never got the chance to finish her stiff greeting/apology as she was wrapped in a ballistic hug.

"Louise Françoise! Oh, my dear heart, it has been far, far too long!"

Pulling back, Louise responded solemnly, "Indeed it has. I would be remiss to not say I've missed your company as well, Princess He-" She was cut off by a single raised finger and a stern expression that still managed to come across with sunny warmth.

"Louise Françoise, what have I told you to call me?" she asked sweetly. "And so stuffy and formal, too! You wound me, bosom friend!" Relaxing slightly, Louise stepped back in toward the princess whose enthusiastic hug finally had a match.

"A... Ann."

 _There it is! A perfect turn-away-and-blush! Still, something is off about this..._

Tabitha frowned ever so slightly as the pieces of a most alarming puzzle fell into place.

 _"Dear heart"? "Bosom friend"? A nickname like that? That **look**? Lord in Heaven, Louise, as delightful as your naïveté about people is, this is taking it a bit far. A troublesome rival has appeared._

Breaking away from the warmth of her estranged friend, Louise straightened, girding herself for what was to come.

"Unfortunately, princess, you're probably already aware this is not merely a social call. We have a matter of some importance to discuss."

"Two," Tabitha spoke up. Louise whipped her head around, surprised.

"Tabitha, are you...?" Louise's unspoken question was answered by her motioning toward the runes on the back of her hand. Louise met her eyes and nodded slightly to show she understood.

 _Support in high places, Louise_ _. Even a rival is useful._

"Two. The first, then, I would greatly appreciate not leaving this room just yet." Louise looked pointedly at Agnes. Henrietta, who had drifted back around the desk to sit, saw the problem.

"Agnes has my full confidence, Louise Françoise," she reassured. Louise gulped audibly and took a steadying breath.

"The truth is... I... I am... I have the Founders magic! I'm a void mage. I'm sorry, I know it sounds like heresy, I'm sorry, please don't throw me in the dungeons or tell the inquisition, I'm sorry..." she had a slow start, but once she got going, it came out in a jumble of half statements and apologies before she finally collapsed into a sobbing mess on the floor.

Tabitha was immediately at her side, a quiet support. More surprisingly, Henrietta came back over and knelt to hesitantly reach out and place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Louise Françoise, be calm. It's fine. I already knew." The princess was calm but firm in her admonishment.

"Y-y-you did? And you're not mad?" The quaver in her tiny voice made it quite clear that she was quite ready to break down again.

"Truthfully, I'm a little relieved you already figured it out. I've been worrying for days about how to explain this to you."

"How?"

"How did I find out? Ah, yes, that's an amusing tale. It turns out one of General Gramont's sons complained to him about you paying off another student to pretend to be your familiar." Louise looked up at Tabitha and grimaced.

"Guiche."

"Quite so, that would be the one. The boy sought to have you censured. Censured! Can you imagine? The good general thought it was unusual enough to at least bring to our attention and, after discussing it with Mother in private, we came to a decision. That is, in fact, why I'm here today."

"Begging your pardon?"

"Come, Louise! Up! Up! I come bearing gifts!" Her excitement dulled when she stopped to really take a look at Tabitha. "You are the one bound by the will of our Founder?" Tabitha tensed at the attention.

"Gandálfr," she stated, showing the runes clearly.

"The Left Hand of God, then," she drawled thoughtfully. "And where do you suppose I should believe the loyalty of a Gallian spy truly lays, Dame Tabitha?" Even a novice would be able to read the dawning horror on Tabitha's face.

"Tabitha! What is she saying?"

 _Bloody buggering shite._

"I'm saying, dear Louise Françoise, that I question her loyalties. Well, what say you? Don't look so surprised; you think I don't have eyes and ears keeping tabs on all our 'exchange students'? I know we're no juggernaut, but give us a _little_ credit."

"Tabitha... is she telling the truth?" The worst possible outcome. She had to do something... _say_ something. Losing Louise's trust would be a fate that could very well kill her.

 _What's that Louise is always saying? About nobles taking responsibility? All I can do is try._

"Somewhat. I was given a mission to seek Tristania's Void mage and make contact. However, I allowed myself to be bound in order to subvert that mission."

"That's a lovely story. If your loyalty is so fickle, why should I trust you with one so dear to me?"

"Tabitha," Louise unexpectedly cut in, "it's okay. I understand." Turning to the princess, she addressed the manticore in the room. "Princess," she said, then more softly, "Ann. If you have ever trusted me, please, I ask you to believe me when I say that Tabitha is no threat. I know the full circumstances of Tabitha's 'employment'," she grimaced at this, "told to me in strictest confidence. Those details are hers to reveal, but I will state unequivocally that she has been under duress for the full tenure of her duty."

"Stories can be invented, Louise Françoise," Henrietta sighed, "I know you. I know you try to see the good in everyone. It gladdens my heart, that part of you- of that, let there be no doubts! But some people will seek to take advantage, to deceive..."

"With all due respect, your highness, I'm afraid I must disconcur in this case. So certain am I, I offer my own life and honour as collateral if she should prove untrustworthy."

"You would go so far?!"

"It is no further than she has already gone for _me_. Please, Ann, understand: she has already saved my life. Multiple times. She tried to _sacrifice_ herself to let me get away just..." Cocking her head to the side a little, she mused, "that was just yesterday, wasn't it?" Straightening again, "I trust Tabitha implicitly," she beamed, "we are Bound."

 _So... bright... I may go blind! Louise, how can you think so well of me after finding out about my mission?  
_

"Louise... you are serious. You've never stood up to me like that." Alarmed, Louise realised just how far she had overstepped her station. Her bow to beg forgiveness was forestalled by a hand on her shoulder. "None of that, now. What did I say before? Truly, I'm glad. I had my worries you would lose that fire as you grew older. I'm glad it was unfounded." Guided by her princess, Louise raised her head to meet the face of a friend with a gentle smile and eyes that held no reproach. And she finally relaxed.

"Thank you, Ann. Thank you, thank you, thank you! If ever I can help you with anything, please tell me!"

"You can count on it, my dearest friend." Switching focus again, she levelled at Tabitha. "And you. I have _never_ seen this girl go out on a limb like that for _anyone._ For that, I'm willing to accept that you're not going to betray her."

"Never."

"Good, see that you don't." Then, as if a switch had flipped, Henrietta became peppy and warm again. "My, that was quite the heart-to-heart!"

"Ann, before we got into... ah, all that, you were saying something about why you came here?"

"Why, yes! Thank you for the reminder, dear heart, I have something that... well in some sense, you could say it belongs to you. A moment..." Reluctantly, Henrietta released her hold on Louise and walked back around the desk to open a drawer, producing something from within. "Do you recognise this book, Louise?"

"It looks like the standard prayer book found in nearly every church. Though it looks a bit beat up..." she ventured uncertainly.

"Correct, my dear, but for one important detail: this isn't _a_ prayer book; it's _the_ prayer book."

"You don't mean..."

"Indeed. This is the original Founder's Prayer Book that served as the model for all the others."

"Princess... I can't take this. It's a priceless national artifact! It's a sacred holy treasure! Far be it from me to question your judgement, but I don't understand!"

"You can and you will take it, Louise Françoise. It belongs only to those who bear the burden of the Void. All the rest of us are merely stewards; caretakers holding it until the time comes. This is your birthright, and the legends passed down in our house say that it will help you in your quest."

"My... quest?"

"Even I'm not certain what that means. We think something in that book will tell you, but it has never revealed its secrets to any of the stewards. I can only wish you luck with whatever it may be."

"Then I suppose... thank you for taking care of it for me?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course!"

* * *

"Now, we've gotten the first thing out of the way. Tabitha? If you please?"

Tabitha unlocked the door, allowing Mathilda in (followed closely by a watchful Kirche), then closed and relocked it. Then cast a spell to prevent eavesdropping. Sensing the gravity, Henrietta drew her wand, adding a second privacy ward on top of Tabitha's before sitting back down behind the desk.

"And who might you be?"

Cutting Mathilda off, Louise answered, "Your Highness, we bring before you the true form of the former thief known as 'Crumbling Dirt'." Henrietta's immediate reaction was not what anyone expected.

"Agnes, stand down!" she barked. Glancing to her side, Tabitha could see it was a timely intervention, the subtle tease of musculature betraying that the trigger had nearly been pulled. After a tense moment, Agnes made a great show of holstering her sidearm.

 _I didn't even see her draw her gun. The woman is good._

Henrietta then addressed the accused.

"The young Lady Vallière has informed us of your identity. What have you to say for yourself?"

"I don't care what you do with me, please help my sister!" Mathilda was grovelling, already losing her composure.

"Oh? Do tell. If word of your crimes is correct, you should probably be executed."

"My sister," she haltingly intoned from the floor, clearly unsettled, "is not of my own blood; she was... the illegitimate child of a Tudor cadet branch Earl. Our family were retainers and betrayal left both of us orphaned and without name. She... she runs an orphanage near Saxe-Goetha now, and I've been working... working so hard... taking... 'asset recovery' jobs... to make ends meet and protect her. She... she cares for those kids more than herself. She would sell her body on the streets to provide for them. I couldn't... can't... let that happen," she wept, "anything but that, please..."

"Retainer to...? I see." Henrietta steepled her fingers, appearing deep in thought for a minute. "And yet," she continued blandly, "the House of Tudor is _my family_ , and we have had no Earls this generation. Care to try again?" Mathilda's breathing hitched _._

"Apologies, your Highness, it's just that..."

"'Just' what? What are you trying to hide? I'm already showing you mercy by allowing you in my presence, now spill your secrets or your life's blood!" The green-haired woman shook and a low, barking laugh issued forth.

"Heehehehe hahahaha _haaa!_ Don't say I didn't try to spare you some heartache as a courtesy. I don't think you can really handle it, but if it's the full unvarnished truth you want, fine!" Mathilda raised herself wearily to one knee and looked the princess in the eyes. "Her father was Archduke Edward." From her place of submission, Mathilda smirked cruelly at Henrietta's sudden interest. "Oh yes, I see you remember dear old Uncle Edward."

"Lord Edward of Tudor... was indeed my uncle. You know something of his death?"

"My, my, you weren't told, were you? About how his own _brother_ , the _"Good King" **James**_ , _slew_ him in cold blood after he made the mistake of seeking marriage to the woman who had already birthed his child!" It was a bull market for eyebrows, Henrietta's climbing quickly at this revelation.

"What slander is this!?" She slammed her palm on the desk as she stood to tower over the smug thief. "Toy with me and I'll have you flayed!"

"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry, but it's hard to mistake watching my own parents be cut down defending His Grace, the late Archduke Edward of Tudor, from his own wroth kin," she spat. Henrietta flinched from the malice of the response and lowered her head, slowly allowing herself to sink back to the seat. When she looked back up, she was composed, her expression a hard mask.

"This would certainly answer a number of questions my father tried to bring up with Uncle James, at the time. But what was his motive?"

"I neither know nor care why a man would murder his own family in cold blood. There's a _reason_ I chose to avoid casualties."

"Fine. Tell me, what became of my erstwhile Aunt and Cousin in this?"

"It is truly fortunate that I was with my Lady and Her Grace at the time and managed to usher them out. To their credit, the House staff were loyal enough to help us escape undetected into the forest." She smiled a little in recollection, then her expression soured. "Her Grace later fled in the night, leaving my Lady and I alone with nothing but a remote woodland cottage," Mathilda seethed.

"And so you eventually went mercenary," Henrietta completed. She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose for a few seconds before looking back up and asking, "I don't suppose you've kept proper ledgers and balance books?" Mathilda sighed heavily.

"I am... afraid not. I don't think I could have kept the orphanage open if I kept above board. I can name some names, but I lack for definitive proof..."

"So. While you've certainly given me a lot to look into and I may be interested in having some of those names, you're still a criminal. It sounds like we're back to prison or death."

"Princess!"

"Louise Françoise, why have you brought this before me?" She sounded stern, more so than at any point in Louise's recollection. She stiffened in place, transfixed by the Princess's glare.

 _Come on, Louise, stick to the plan. Calm. Calm. I am like Steel._

"After an intense battle, we had this woman at our mercy. Tabitha... must have seen something, because next thing I know, we're listening to her story. She seemed certain she was about to die.

"Then she threw my words back at me. She challenged me. And so, princess, I declare my intent to right what has been wronged and do so justly. It's become a matter of honour, your highness." Their gazes met once again and, this time, Louise did not flinch.

"After receiving Agnes's report on what you managed to accomplish just yesterday, I was willing to grant each of those involved a boon. Knowing more of the details, I'm certain that you three deserve it. So would you, Louise de La Vallière, be willing to use something so precious on this fool's errand of attempting to redeem this woman who attempted to murder you just yesterday?"

"Yes."

"See, that's what I thought. Even you couldn't possibly-" The princess halted mid-sentence as she processed Louise's answer. "Wait, what?"

"Yes, I wish to exchange my boon for permission and support pursuant to the rescue of this family and their business from an impoverished war zone. Setting aside my own motives, this also looks good for our own national image as allies of Albion, and those we rescue are likely to be more loyal to those instrumental to their salvation and protection."

She still didn't like the plan. It was a stupid plan, really. But it was the right thing to do and, with the addition of royal prerogative, now much closer to a reality.

Henrietta sighed heavily, slumping a little. "Louise Françoise, what _am_ I going to do with you?"

"Uh, give me an airship, I hope?"


	19. Otaku, A Black Symbol

#AN: Oh, I fell off the planet. I don't even have Monster Hunter to blame this time! Let's just say I successfully participated in "National Non-Writing Month". (Wait, what do you mean, "that's not what it stands for"?) And a few more for good measure. ...though that's not _entirely_ true either- I did actually jot down a bit of non-Loopholes prose that may or may not ever get posted.

Anyway, something about this one just wouldn't come together and life was busy being it's usual wonderful self and _then_ I got promoted and became quite busy indeed. What ultimately got it to gel was sitting down and making a timetable of events and writing the important or fun parts. Also, some wonderful comments from readers helped.

As usual, a huge thanks to the collaborators and conversationalists who keep me on my toes: Poliamida and Delphi913, take a bow. Also the story that largely inspired this, Maid of Honour, finally updated again. Twice. Thrice. There's nothing that comes after "thrice"; dammit, escalus, you're making me look bad! ;)

* * *

Chapter 16: Otaku, A Black Symbol of this Sick Modern World

"Uh, give me an airship, I hope?"

Kirche, who had mostly played the part of bored spectator thus far, immediately perked up.

"Airships? Did someone mention airships?"

At the same time, Henrietta's brow furrowed.

"An... airship? What are you planning, precisely?"

"Something glorious!" Kirche supplied.

"It's actually relatively simple: we're going to go and get them. Especially now that we have to account for your cousin, private-sector passage is far too risky in this situation. Albion ports are under heavy regulation and increased scrutiny right now, and successfully ushering a score of children through that will draw attention. That's the last thing any of them needs."

"I see. Discretion..." Henrietta frowned a bit in thought. Kirche was making zooming and whooshing noises. "Hm, I suppose it's serviceable. Agnes, your evaluation?"

"Yes, your highness. It's an acceptable concept, though the size constraints are difficult. Fast enough to run the Reconquista blockade; large enough to carry the refugees; small enough to weigh anchor near a forest and not instantly draw the attention of every Albion dreadnought on the east coast."

"That's an excellent point. I'll make some enquiries."

"Oooh, sounds shiny!" Kirche swooned.

"However, Your Highness, that leaves the problem of crewing this vessel. Our naval commission is spread thin as it is," Agnes continued.

"Oh, oh! Pick me, pick me!" Everyone present was ignoring Kirche by this point.

"Yes, that is troubling. Perhaps we can draw from the merchant marine for the rank-and-file. But the most important role..."

"Excuuuuuse me, princess!" Kirche's shout finally brought all eyes to her. "Tut tut, all this talking about airships and leaving me out of it! I'll have you know, I'm certified for captaincy up to corvettes." Louise blinked. The silence stretched on for a few seconds.

"Right, well, you just drafted yourself, Boob Demon," she relented with a sigh.

"Hooray!" Kirche threw her hands in the air and started doing a happy dance. "By the Fires of Altheim, this is going to be so. Much. Fun!" Louise's fuming at the incredible disrespect to _The Princess_ finally boiled over.

"Zerbst, how are you so incapable of basic etiquette before royalty?! Stop fooling around!" Bemused and amused, Henrietta had long given up trying to figure out where this meeting had gone wrong.

"Okay, okay, calm your pits, Little Peach..." As usual, the switch to Serious Kirche Mode was startling in its suddenness. Kirche moved to stand confidently at attention before Henrietta. "Reporting for duty of captain for Operation Lost Lamb, Your Highness. If you can supply us with a vessel, I will be more than happy to supply the crew for it."

Finally _, something approaching normal. I could express my misgivings at this trust for another foreign national in such a crucial role, but the dear girl would surely protest and I've had quite enough of that today._

"Very well, Commissioner Specialist Zerbst, I... _leave it in your capable hands._ " Kirche very nearly avoided a nervous swallow in the face of a glare that communicated 'screw this up and they'll never find the body' quite adequately. "Have I made myself clear?"

"Crystal, ma'am." Kirche saluted. She made an about-face and addressed the girls arrayed before her. "All right, you lot, move out, we've got a lot of work to do!"

* * *

After their whirlwind relocation to Tristania and an early lunch, Tabitha was somewhat surprised to immediately receive a summons to meet with the princess again. Alone.

Knocking lightly on the door, she was struck with a curious case of déjà vu when it opened to a veritable twin of the office they had been in earlier that day.

 _The academy is an auxiliary?_ Shrugging internally, she walked calmly to the correctly respectful distance and gave a textbook diplomat's bow.

"You wished to see me, your Highness?"

"I did, yes. Rise, Dame Tabitha; at ease." Henrietta took a slow breath in and out.

 _Steeling herself? Why?_

"Dame Tabitha, as you are no doubt aware, my dearest Louise Françoise will insist on overseeing this venture of hers personally." This earned her a tiny nod. "I understand you have accepted the holy call of the Sword Saint, Gandalfr." Tiny nod. "And surely do I appreciate it, let there be no doubts! But you must understand the situation in Albion right now: it is probably worse than you've heard and... well, you seem like a sharp one so it's probably much closer to what you've surmised." Tiny nod. "Normally, I would seek some powerful escort - a Griffin Knight, perhaps - to ensure her security, but she's found far better than I can truly offer. Being who you are, what I _can_ do, however, is provide additional material support." Tiny n-

 _Wait, what?_ Tabitha's train of thought ground to a halt at what she'd just been told.

"Meaning?"

"Even in normal circumstances, I would allow you discretionary access to the Royal Armoury. But for you..." Henrietta's voice lowered a pitch. "Tell me, Dame Tabitha, have you ever encountered an object so uncanny that you cannot fathom the method of its creation? Something the construction of which seems far beyond even the extensive capabilities of our magic?"

"Not that I-" She stopped.

She had, in fact, just yesterday, when she touched the artifact they had recovered and discovered it to be mundane in nature. A mundane weapon with the power to slay a dragon, yes, that certainly qualified.

"Correction: I had not before yesterday. The so-called 'Staff of Destruction'. When I touched it..."

"Oh, Osmond has some squirreled away? Good, that saves me some time explaining." _No, please do._ "You will be given unrestricted access to Tristain's High Reliquary as soon as the forms go through." _The what, now?_ "Use the devices within to protect your charge." Henrietta's expression softened, "Please, Dame Tabitha, please keep her safe. She is very dear to me."

"Without fail." _As if I need **you**_ _to tell me that._

* * *

Much like a puppy who was so very proud to have dug up every. single. houseplant. (even the dry prickly one; that one was no fun at all...) Kirche was grinning ear to ear as she arrived to replace Tabitha in Henrietta's office. It set the princess immediately on her guard.

"Commissioner Zerbst," she ventured cautiously. "To what do I owe pleasure?"

"Well..." Kirche scuffed a toe on the ornate rug, looking not unlike a child who knew you knew they knew they'd done something bad, but they were going to try to play it off anyway. "You know how you said there was maaaaaaaybe possibly a boon involved in this whole mess...?"

Ah, yes. That. But given her manner so far, it wasn't surprising that this silly girl would already have some nonsensical thing to squander it on.

"I did. And I assure you it's not my way to go back on my word, though I'm a bit busy trying to arrange security and resource allocation on this little humanitarian mission for which you are _captain_..." Really, the girl was clearly not captain material. _Perhaps_ _I'll need to call someone else in..._

"Believe it or not, your Highness, you might in fact call this a security measure." She produced a small scroll and set it before the princess on her desk. "I would greatly prefer our recourse be legitimate, assuming its necessity." And there was the cheeky grin that signified far more mischief than is strictly healthy. _Oh dear, what have I gotten myself into?_

Carefully, as though it might bite, Henrietta unrolled the parchment, skimmed the first few lines... and laughed. Truly giggled, with a snort thrown in for good measure. Nonplussed, Kirche was the off-balance one for once, baffled over whether this was a good sign or a denial. Finally, the princess's mirth waned enough that she was able to get words out again.

"My - hahah - my apologies, Commissioner. Your ruse was quite successful, so the degree to which I've misjudged you was just too amusing." Kirche goggled at this, seeming unsure just how to react. "At ease, Ms. Zerbst." Henrietta examined the wayward Germanian child in light of her realisation. _How_ _very interesting. I suppose we'll have to update her file now._ Seeing Kirche had settled a bit, she continued.

"I must admit, I hadn't expected to see one of these so soon, considering what information is public about the Albion situation. But I do see your point: it is always best to stand at the top of the food chain. Standard terms and conditions?"

"Almost. I made one small addition at the end." Was that a note of trepidation? What could she possibly... _Oh. I see. My, my, Miss Zerbst, how eager you are! But I think I can work with this._

"Agnes, is the Eenhoorn still airworthy?" The strangled cough she got in response was too precious.

"Milady, are you sure?"

"Oh yes, very. In fact, I think she'll be perfect. And just think, Agnes: now you won't need to worry about your airsickness!"

"Urk! Your Highness!" Agnes whined. An uncharacteristic smirk struggled to overtake the beatific smile on Henrietta's lips because it looked like everything was coming up "princess".

"Very well, Commissioner." Henrietta plucked the quill from her blotter and signed the document with a flourish. "You'll have your boon and then some." She penned another note and then sealed both with wax from her candle. "Take this document to the shipwright Hybertsson. He'll know what to do."

The strangled gasp that name elicited came with a dilation of the pupils and Henrietta could see Kirche was practically vibrating with delight. As soon as she had the pair of documents in hand, she tore out of the princess's study so quickly, one could be forgiven for thinking she teleported.

"Oh my. Do you think I should send a courier to warn the old lazybones- Agnes? Are you feeling unwell?" Her very competent guard captain was currently huddled in the corner, hands over her ears. "He said he was sorry about the wing-over, you know..."

* * *

"Avast, me hearties, let's see what ye bonnie lass has cooked up!" Louise looked up from the desk where she was skimming some preliminary research for...

"...bonnie lass? What? By the Founder, Kirche, what's gotten into you?"

"Aye, yon royal type gal! By me beard she surely be one to shiver me timbers!"

"Kirche, you don't even have a beard. And stop ogling the princess!"

"Oh ho ho, so ye Feuerbrand 'as staked 'er claim o' the booty, aye?" Kirche's grin and exaggerated winking left no question about what she was implying.

"W-w-w-whaaat!? I'll see you keel hauled if you don't watch yourself, Zerbst!"

"Arr, that's not a 'no' I be hearing!" Naturally, suggestions of self-control only made Kirche worse. Equally natural was the almost literal "snap" as Louise ended playtime. With her wand. And a growl. And an explosion.

"Feeling a little better, Peach? Aww, poor thing, you were all pent up for so long... was it as good for you as it was for me?" The smoke cleared to reveal Kirche had not done Louise the simple favour of _ceasing to be_ and was only a little worse for wear. Also, her rakish grin was apparently stuck there, because she still had it.

With a solid thud, Louise's forehead impacted the desk as she groaned her response: "I really hate you."

"Time enough for that later, dear! Come! Up! Up! I can't find Tabitha, so you're coming with me to meet our vessel!"

"Why."

"Such a silly question, Louise, you kidder!"

* * *

Though admitting it aloud was out of the question (especially with the fiery devil woman in earshot), Louise was curious enough to join Kirche. So after fetching Mathilda to form what Kirche declared was "a proper adventuring party", they made their way to the harbourmaster, who directed them to a strangely quiet area in the southern reaches of the shipyards. Large scaffolds covered in tarpaulin obscured lines of sight, functioning almost as buildings for...

"Ah, this must be where they do refit work," remarked Kirche. "If the Master isn't in his office we may have to make a hunt of it..." There was a peculiar note of excitement to the way she said that that put her compatriots on edge.

"Or he could just be lazing about in a hammock," Mathilda deadpanned.

"Nonsense! Surely a man of his calibre will be hard at work on his next masterpiece!" Louise couldn't believe... oh. "On second thought, even a genius needs rest?"

Sure enough, there was the master shipwright in a hammock fashioned of old netting strung between the posts in front of his office, sawing logs in the midday sun.

* * *

"Sir? Sir! Master Hybertsson!" Louise, for all her loudness, was having trouble even getting a response from the hulking lump of human-esque driftwood that was to show them their airship.

"Too errrrly... n't buildn'nother mrrrchnnn shhhhhp..." The low rumble of his half-conscious response showed him as a fair talent at sleeping too.

"No, sir, it's the afternoon and we were sent to see you on an errand for the crown!" He adapted quick, seeming to only fall into a deeper slumber at her insistent shaking. Louise, already on a short fuse, drew her wand and glared at his back menacingly. "Most people would be honoured to receive a letter from the princess! But you..."

"Prrrrrncsss...?"

"Yes, a letter directly from her desk to you specifically. Though I can't imagine why, full grown delinquent sleeping..." She grumbled uncharitable things as she snatched the note from an oddly-subdued Kirche, glared at Mathilda's smirk, and pushed it into his hand. Dragging it inexorably up to his face, he bit the wax seal off and unfolded the scrap with that same hand. They couldn't see his expression from behind, but he clearly started, shook his head as if he were seeing things, and... _was that a wince?_

The creaking and groaning as he righted himself for a voyage in service to queen and country... probably shouldn't have come from a human body. But in spite of all this, he eventually stood and Louise had to look up. And up. And up some more. Perhaps more mountain than man, he may have smiled through his bushy brown beard? It was probably a smile. But for all that he had the appearance of a more-comely-than-average orc, his eyes sparkled with a keen intellect and surveyed them as surely as they stared wide-eyed at him.

"So, finally..." Even awake, his deep voice made it hard to accept this giant among the ranks of normal men. Never one to be properly intimidated, Louise took the opening.

"Very much so! You're a challenge to waken, Master Hybertsson. Now, if you could show us to this mystery ship, I'd like to get on with my day." He righted the suspenders of his stained dungarees, smoothed his off-white linen shirt.

"Easy there, lass. Nothing good'll come of getting bent outta shape by a few more seconds when there's no hurry." He turned and pointed down the westward path outside his office and noted, "It's not too far, this way."

He casually strolled away and, by the time Louise threw another glare at Matilda's snickering and grabbed the oddly-catatonic Kirche's hand to drag her along, they practically had to jog to make progress against his long stride.

* * *

A panting, out-of-breath Louise served as entertainment for the erstwhile secretary/thief while Kirche was having a _religious experience_ on the third tier auxiliary scaffold of a covered refit dock.

"This'll be the one, then." He was talking. To her. To Kirche. Master Henrik Hybertsson was _talking to her_. "Was afraid she'd be sent to scrap, but the princess says you've got enough crazy in you to put her to proper work." He was talking to her. About an airship. "Little Miss Red? You okay there?"

 _Blast the shell and sear the thread, girl, he's **talking to you**!_

" _Yes!_ Err, I mean, yes. Affirmative?" He smiled down at her indulgently (probably).

"I know it, I'mma bit of a shock to the senses. I hope I haven't scared you too... awful... bad...?" She wasn't listening. She knew from the way he trailed off that he knew it too. She couldn't help it. She had finally stopped to really take a _look_ at where they were and she saw _her_. She saw her and fell in love.

"This... the bow profile practically screams Gryphon-pattern, but the forecastle is vestigial and the aft castle is low and midship like recent work coming out of Woolwich Dockyard." She moved on autopilot, reaching out to run a hand reverently along the gunwale. "From the way this join here is done, this is more like the earlier patterns, before the increased beam came into vogue," she noted absently. "It'd be a bit on the small side for regular cargo hauling, but it means we get a bit more speed for the same weight." Trailing a hand along the side, she hummed lightly. "The rigging... oh my, taking tips from Germanians! To be fair, the Komet is a design worth copying if you can take care of the harmonic. Is that where the shape of the hardsails comes in? Pity how that shortens the gun deck..." On and on, she continued in this manner, dissecting every little bit all the way around until she stopped cold at the propulsion.

"These engines... these are not standard," she remarked blandly. "In fact, the only thing like them I can even think of... but that's preposterous. And yet! How did you...?" She shook her head. "Does the Romalian holy air force _know_ you somehow looted the engines from a Prominence-class high-mobility battlecruiser? Unbelievable. What are those even doing here? Were it not for those, I'd say you forgot to paint her in diplomatic livery... what in the blazes is this ship _for?_ " She punctuated that question with a petulant stomp. The sound of her heaving breaths mingled with the constant stiff breeze at ten mail above the ground, as she regained her composure.

"No, don't answer that. More pressing questions come first. How much did you reinforce the airframe? Where's the ballast bias? How did you compensate for rudder torque when she's full ahead on the screws? How's her cross wind listing behaviour? Operational ceiling? Rate of climb? Altitude holding? And _how soon can I take her up for shakedown?!_ "

Chuckling, Henrik gave her the best possible news: "Ya get yerself a crew and you're golden, she's ready to fly any time!"

"Ah hah!" She flounced over to a fuming Louise and pulled her into a hug "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! This is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me! Watch out, Peach, you might have a rival for my affections!"

("He's a little old for you...")

("I mean the ship, dear.")

("Oh.")

"Okay," she replied, "So you love it... quite a bit. Will it work, though?"

"Oh, yes, so much yes, she's perfect, better than perfect. Blazes, there's so much to do, come on, Tillie, we've got a crew to find!"

"What about me?" asked Louise.

"Oh, you can go back to whatever you were doing, this is the part where the party splits up." Louise sighed in resignation at the odd dismissal.

"Whatever, Kirche. Just remember, this is a covert op. Be discreet."

* * *

Louise could feel the headache coming on already and no one had even said anything. Kirche was involved, it was only natural.

"This is the crew you've picked out?"

"Yes! Aren't they wonderful?" Kirche replied glibly.

"This is the crew you've picked out."

It was a rabble of smelly, unshaven, brutish thugs that looked like they had gone out of their way to look like pirates. At no point did "wonderful" begin to describe them. Kirche, blissfully unaware of how much of a pain in the ass she was, hadn't bothered to make sure Louise was paying attention as she continued to sing the praises of her... "crew".

"-tested each of them in single combat! A saltier lot of air dogs you'll never find."

A clearing throat brought her attention to Mathilda, who was clearly unamused.

"What actually happened was she went to the merchant's guildhall, made a ruckus, got us thrown out, then went to a pub and offered to buy a round for anyone willing to join the crew and do something crazy."

"Aww Tillie, must you ruin the telling with all these boring truths?"

"Don't you 'aww Tillie' me, you hooligan! I'd like to remain unexploded for another day and... just look, see the eyebrow twitch? That's your warning sign to stop." Apparently Kirche and Mathilda were, horror of horrors, _bonding_. Albeit over not-dying, but it was the principle of the thing.

"Why so it is! I knew there was a reason I kept you around." Mathilda rolled her eyes.

"You mean aside from the fact that I'm a, in your words, 'flight risk' and the part where we only actually have a crew because I know this city? I'm not sure if it's more shameful that that pub was my recommendation or that your approach actually _worked_." She gave a venomous glare at the assembled ruffians. After some nervous shuffling, one of them spoke up for the group.

"If it would help put your mind at ease, Lady Vallière, we're actually a professional salvage company." No hint of the uncultured roughness Louise had expected could be found in his explanation.

"Salvage."

"Yes ma'am. I may be biased, but we might well be the best in the business." Well that changed everything. Not thugs and less brutish than they looked. Now that she looked closer, Louise could see that a number of the scraggly beards and thick swirly mustaches were tied on with string. The hats looked brand new, the parrots were made of wood, and one man had lifted up his eye-patch to rub at the functioning eye underneath. _That false peg-leg must be painful,_ she noted. But _on_ that note...

"Then what is the meaning of... of..." Louise gestured weakly at the assembly, "What's all this, then?" More uncomfortable shuffling as they seemed to grasp what she was getting at.

"Ah. Yes. Apologies, it was one of Lady Kirche's stipulations and it seemed like fun at the time..." So they had, in fact, gone out of their way to look like pirates. The silence that followed in the wake of this revelation stretched well into uncomfortable territory as Louise visibly counted to ten. Opening her eyes, she gave the crew an appraising once-over then tracked _past_ Kirche, who clearly wanted the attention, to look askance at Mathilda, who shrugged a little.

"You know what? I'm not even mad. Good work."


	20. Booned Docks and Saints

#AN: This has been more or less done since the last chapter went up, but I wanted to have something for the chapter after before posting this and... yeah, getting things to fit together has been a pain. I waffled endlessly on having _another_ transition chapter, but ultimately decided that if I didn't at least lay some of this groundwork, a whole lot of things later will feel like asspulls. Maybe I'll screw it up anyway.

* * *

Chapter 17: Booned Docks and Saints, Jurisprudence of (pp. 349)

Things were coming together. They had a royal mandate, they had what was apparently a ship made by a genius ogre or something, they had a crew that _even wasn't pirates_ , and Louise finally had some peace and quiet while Kirche was off "playing" with her new "toy".

 _No! The ship is the toy and the playing is non-sexual. Bad brain, don't think about the crew- aaaaah dammit._ She covered her face with both hands, trying to banish the imagery her imagination conjured up.

"Hmph, it's not like it even matters if she did!" The justification she gave the empty room sounded rather hollow for some reason, but it was enough for her to snap back to her research. So engrossed was she that she didn't notice someone had entered until two long, hard objects were placed on the desk in front of her.

"Tabitha, what is this?" She wasn't really sure how she knew the source of this interruption without seeing her, but the question had escaped before she had a chance to think about it.

"Dagger and colichemarde," Tabitha replied from her periphery.

"Yes. But why have you placed them on top of my homework?" Louise had a sinking suspicion that her research binge was coming to an abrupt end.

"You need training." Tabitha must have taken her incredulity as a request for more information for once. "This will allow you to protect yourself from those who encroach."

"Are you nuts? I'm a noble!"

"And defenseless."

"Grr, that's why I have you, isn't it!?"

"Preparedness is also my job."

"Why does this even matter!" In some far off corner of her perception, she was aware she was being a brat, but it was just so... menial. Thuggish. An acknowledgment that she was a useless mage.

"A demonstration," Tabitha said, pointing at a spot in the middle of the ornate area rug that covered the smooth stone of the castle. "Stand, please. Wand out." Tentatively, Louise rose from the desk chair to take the indicated position. Then Tabitha stepped close and commanded: "Aim at me."

Louise cocked her head to the side a bit, shrugged, and took a step back to- _Oh, Founder's sakes, I see how it is..._ Naturally, Tabitha moved with her. She took a few more steps but Tabitha stuck to her the whole way, even when she tried to fake her out.

"Nnnnnnn, Tabitha! I can't do what you said if you're so close!" she complained. It was a reflex, but as soon as she said it, she realised she had just played her part perfectly.

"Precisely. Your current magic lacks versatility and you have low mobility. Carrying a sidearm is common sense." With that, she pantomimed pulling the dagger from her bandolier ( _Huh, that's new._ ) and stabbing Louise several times in quick succession, a collection of wounds that would have left her in need of several high-grade healing spells in rapid succession. "I can teach you," Tabitha offered. Louise didn't need a revealing facial expression to deduce she was feeling a bit pleased with herself. It... kind of pissed her off.

"No! You know what? I don't want to! I'll never be good at it anyway!"

"Then you will remain when we leave."

"Uuuu, Tabitha, you're no fair! My body is weak and small!"

"Lightweight thrusting weapons moot that." Louise was acutely aware by this point that the battle was long lost and her familiar **would** be teaching her the finer points of stabbing people to death.

* * *

Tabitha came back from the so-called "High Reliquary" as a pilgrim who had unintentionally stumbled onto enlightenment, as if such a thing were just found laying around in subterranean storage vaults. Or happened to be numerous, long, hollow, and made of a truly mind-boggling quantity of exotic tempered steel and other metals of a character that only earth mages were capable of reproducing.

And like a pilgrim, it ignited a kind of fire within her that she had never felt before as she began exploring the possibilities afforded by this opportunity.

However, it was only after Kirche dragged her on a flight exercise (read: "joyride") in the unusual ship they had procured that she made the final connection. There was just one question that needed answered:

"Armament load limits. Tell me."

"Coals alight, what's gotten into you, Tabitha?" A strange question, considering the source. But it was the case that she was possibly just a bit more... fervent... than usual. But she had a good reason, and she fully intended to spread the gospel of...

"Guns." Tabitha stated it plainly. There was no question in her mind that Kirche would understand soon.

"...Guns?" Kirche asked, nonplussed.

"Guns." Tabitha reaffirmed.

"Guns." Kirche verified.

"Guns." Tabitha agreed, nodding sagely.

"Guns...!" Kirche anticipated.

"Guns!" Tabitha enthused.

Several moments later, Louise walked into the room...

"Hey Tabithaaaiiii think I have somewhere else I need to be, goodbye!"

...pulled a smooth 180 and walked right back out the door, leaving Kirche and Tabitha chanting "Guns!" at each other.

* * *

Kirche's "lot of work" turned out to mostly _not_ involve Louise. For several days. Which was just fine. Good subordinates should be able to work without guidance; she shouldn't HAVE to be involved in every little thing. She wasn't resentful at all. Really. Even if preparation for _her_ point-proving mission was almost entirely out of her hands. Okay, so maybe she was a little resentful. Or just generally irritated. Or maybe... maybe she was just lonely?

Kirche going off her rocker more or less made sense once she wrapped her head around the fact that the girl had an unhealthy obsession with machinery of all sorts and airships in particular. And... other things.

* * *

Louise's eye twitched to see the flag flying from the mast. It was black with a skull and crossbones.

"Kirche, do you not know what 'subtlety' means?"

"When you have tea without biscuits?"

"Covert?"

"Feathery!"

"We're doomed."

* * *

 _I should probably make sure to check again when we launch._

But the zeal with which Tabitha had gotten involved was... honestly disappointing. Weird, too, but Louise had the strong impression that there were Very Good Reasons for her to do so. This didn't make it less worrisome when Tabitha came back late every night, collapsed on the bed, and had to be coaxed into even bothering with taking off her day clothes before slipping under the duvet. Even the shelf of recently published novels in their room didn't seem to draw her interest. If Louise didn't know in her gut that Tabitha was not fraught with some sort of malady, she would have sought a healer.

 _I still can't imagine what else could have possessed her to go along with Kirche's bizarre chanting, though..._ She shuddered a little at the memory and hoped the crazed grin on Tabitha's normally subdued face as she shouted "guns!" repeatedly was just a trick of her memory. She frowned. _Maybe an exorcism instead..._

But whatever the case, she could admit to herself, in private (internally, at least), that, more than simply "used to", she had grown _fond_ of Tabitha's near-constant presence, and had decidedly _not_ realised just how much it would throw her to not have that companionship for a couple days.

Which was silly. There was no _need_ for them to be joined at the hip. Tabitha had things she needed to do, just like Kirche and, yes, even Louise herself.

Really, these arrangements were ideal for pursuing a few projects of her own. As reluctant as she was to skip so much of her formal education, she was mollified by Headmaster Osmond's assurance that service to the State fell under the "extracurricular special accreditation" bylaws of the school charter and she wouldn't be penalised for the missed course work. As such, it was giving her some much-needed time to pursue independent study on suddenly-very-relevant topics. Though the princess had provided use of her old room at the palace on an unlimited basis "as the true owner of the Prayer Book", she was mostly deep in land grants, property law, and establishing just what she might theoretically be able to accomplish through brute political force. Tabitha had driven home that she couldn't truly be exposed as a fraud, but why leave things to chance?

 _Is there really no annexation power reserved by the Church? Maybe this is the wrong approach._

Not that she hadn't tried to figure out the Prayer Book, too! It just... well, it was empty. Entirely. In her more frustrated moments, she had been slightly tempted to write ordinary, respectable journal entries (and definitely without extensive profanity) in it just because the paper was nice.

A knock at the door caused her to look up from some jurisprudence records for saints and other high-ranking church figures.

 _Too early for Tabitha yet._ She idly rubbed the calluses that were forming on her hands from her Familiar's absolutely terrifying drills on the steel murder devices she had been gifted. Tabitha was a stern taskmaster on the practice field and that stupid talking sword wasn't helping anything, giving her advice that made no sense. She at least had finally gotten the basic thrusts to the point they had earned a neutral "acceptable" earlier in the day.

 _Kirche would barge in and make herself known without the pretense of politeness..._ Though the fiery lunatic had been absent at night, apologising profusely for "depriving her little peach of skinship", but she simply _had_ to spend time with her "baby" and establish a good working relationship with the crew. Which was... reasonable, yes, but she was probably taking it too far. _That girl has a problem. Several._ But that left the question of who would come to visit in the mid evening without preamble.

"Yes? You may enter."

"Louise Françoise, it's good to see you're making use of this room. I had my worries." _Ah, should have dressed properly after my bath after all._ She quickly spun up to a minor panic state as she disengaged from her legal studies and awkwardly leapt from her chair to kneel.

"My Princess! I wouldn't presume to shirk your generosity!"

"Louise! Truly, must you stand on ceremony so? And in your nightgown, too!" Henrietta's admonishment stung. "I realise I've slighted you terribly to leave our friendship fallow, but the fault lies with me and mine. Please, enough with this unsightly grovelling." Sheepishly, Louise re-situated herself on the _positively genius_ Circular Rotation Seat while Henrietta perched on the edge of the bed.

"Would you believe me if I said that was reflex?" That earned her a giggle and a rueful shake of the head.

"Only you, Louise Françoise! Surely, only you."

"Be that as it may, Princess, you literally own the door and the room and the building and the city. Of anyone, I hardly think you should feel the need to knock?"

"Perhaps that is so. But even if these were my personal chambers, if you were there it would feel... right, in this case. See you a crown upon my head? Nay, I come before you this evening not as the Princess Henrietta, but as your erstwhile friend..."

Louise pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "I just can't win against you... Ann." Meeting Henrietta's eyes, she noticed... "Now, now, dry your tears, no need to let the old Crybaby Ann out, I do honestly forgive you. Already had the first three times you apologised. I may be young - may have been younger still - but I still understand responsibility to one's House. Be you princess or friend, know that my door is always open to you without reservation."

Suddenly her lap was full of crying princess. _Oh for the love of..._ Helplessly, Louise sat ramrod-straight, a white-knuckle grip on the suddenly-less-clever chair that she wasn't willing to allow moving and tossing her first friend to the floor, Henrietta bawling all the while.

"Louise Françoise," she sniffled after several minutes of sobbing and half-coherent babbling, "I don't know what I've done to deserve a friend like you." Her tear-streaked face caused Louise's protests about the impropriety of their situation to dry up in her mouth. "Perhaps... perhaps I could ask your advice? An old... indiscretion, shall we say, may be coming to light and I am hapless to stop it."

"You want it stopped? Consider it done," Louise dug herself a hole with zero hesitation.

"No, no, I couldn't possibly burden you with this when you've already a noble task ahead of you. Though Albion is where... but no! This would take you far afield from what you truly need to do."

"What did I say before? Anything you desire, if it's within my power. At least tell me what the problem is; maybe we'll have some time to look into it." Louise **really** liked her hole.

"Truly? You would do this for me?"

"You can ask me for help, Ann. In fact, I insist!"

"Oh, my dearest Louise, you're far, far too good to me. See, the truth is..."

* * *

"It's time." Kirche was ready, drunk on the anticipation of a new voyage. Pulling her Kleiner Dienstanzug from the small chest of drawers, she began her ritual, stripping down to only her most comfortable underwear and the uniquely unflattering brassiere that Tabitha had retrieved from wherever after she had complained about back pain. She considered further binding, but quickly realized she didn't have enough material. The peculiar stretchy fabric that had made working less bouncy would have to do. "This was much easier four years ago," she grumbled. Truly, a beautiful body was such a burden.

Pulling on the hose and trousers of her uniform, she spared a thought for the crew, wondering idly if she would ever work with any of them again. She held no illusion that they were _her_ crew. _Just like back then,_ she noted glumly, clamping the buckles of the boots with a snap of finality.

Sure, they had gelled well over prior three days of shakedown and long grueling shifts making modifications under the watchful eye and stern direction of the master shipwright himself. But they were truly only there for entertainment and a hefty coin purse from the royal coffers. They had their own profession, their own rhythm, and she could plainly see they worked well together. She was only captain because they didn't strictly _need_ her to call the shots to get most things done. In a way, that was ideal; if they had lacked that initiative or been anything other than competent to the last, she probably would have dumped the whole lot of them. She snorted at the thought.

"Mathilda would throw a fit." Still, though they deferred to her and even respected her, she knew there was no real loyalty to anything but the payout. They were professionals, after all.

She sank further into her musings, muscle memory buttoning the white shirt and guiding the black tie into a perfect service knot. Pulling her hair into a tight bun, she slipped on the midnight blue jacket, pinned her family crest to the shoulder and adjusted the cap on her head. Looking in the mirror, she winced, seeing for a moment the bubbly foolish little girl she had been. She hardened her gaze and came back to the present.

"Things are different now. I'm different now. That time changed me for the better," she reassured herself. She exited her quarters and deftly shimmied up the narrow ladder to the bustling control house. As she came in, activity ceased as they knew what the uniform meant.

It was time.

She nodded to her XO and he handed her the enchanted speaking tube that Tabitha had jiggered up. Where she'd gotten the inspiration was as much a mystery as the genesis of her curious new metal staff. Time enough to consider that later.

"This is the captain. We haven't had a lot of time to prepare, but the situation has changed. The latest intelligence from Albion has the revolutionary army in full control of Londinium, and we should expect a dense patrol pattern. Play time is sadly over.

"Fortunately, we have the best ship made by the greatest of masters, and an exceptional crew to guide her. The mission stays the same."

She took a slow breath, trying to not show how giddy she was to be back.

"Freischutz, launch!"


	21. Gryphon With a Red Dye Job

#AN: Took a while to massage this into feeling complete. Some of you have guessed around what gets revealed in this chapter, but that doesn't make it less fun! Also, I noticed this story passed 300 favs shortly after the last chapter was posted. Over 400 followers, over 100 reviews, and 65008 total views as of posting this chapter. I know I'm not very fast at publishing, so I thank you all for your patience and support.

* * *

Chapter 18: Gryphon With a Red Dye Job

Iron Mask was back.

* * *

His first "visit" came scant hours after they had cleared Tristania's airspace. Astride a grizzled elder Griffin, he seemingly materialised out of thin air to sweep past the top of their ship from the stem. The wind of his passage knocked most of the deck crew prone before they could even think to train their guns on him. Without the threat of immediate reprisal he wheeled around to hover just off the prow.

 _Who?_

His face and identity, were covered in a mask of black iron. However his furred leather high-altitude armour bore the mark of many battles and the silvery sheen of a mythril spell blade established him as a critical threat regardless.

 _Damn it all, I was too careless!_ Tabitha berated herself, realising with dawning horror that he was hovering over Louise, who had gone to enjoy the wind coming over the forward gunwale before they ascended to the cooler altitudes that would drive her below. Panicked, Tabitha scrambled for her staff and began desperately weaving a spell to-

He was gone. Upon spotting Louise struggling to regain her footing, he seemed to pause for the barest moment before his mount folded its wings and dropped like a stone. Letting the gathered magic dissipate, she dashed to her diminutive master's side.

"You're unhurt?"

"I... I'm fine." She was clearly spooked, but didn't appear injured at least. "Tabitha, who was that? What was that about?"

"Unknown. Assume hostile," she ground out tersely. "Stay nearby now."

 _Even this close to the capital. I'm such a fool, and Louise could have easily paid the price._

"Tabitha..." Despite the expression on Louise's face telling her that it wasn't her fault, she knew otherwise. Louise's face fell into a sad grimace. "Very well, let's go to the aft launch and... and teach me more knife drills?"

 _I can't properly watch if I'm helping..._

"You need to relax, girlie. She's fine and nothing happened. Don't get so wound up you lose sight of what's important." Right. Talking sword. Undoing the loop that kept the sword at her hip, she held him out for Louise.

"Derflinger will supervise. I will keep watch."

"Girlie-"

"Hush."

He heaved a great metallic sigh. "Okay Pinkie, let's see where you're at with that bread cutter of yours..."

* * *

She had forced Kirche to alter their course in anticipation of an attack, but it had only bought them time, and she finally caught sight of him in the waning sun of the approaching dusk.

This time, she met him in the air.

However, it ended as only a short exchange of spells- the interloper decided to cut his losses after she surprised him with her secondary affinity and ice started accumulating on his mount's wings. She was sure he would be back and that she hadn't seen the extent of his skills. The speed of his departure made it clear that he was at _least_ a mid-tier triangle wind mage.

At that point, Tabitha wanted to turn the ship around, wanted so badly to give up on this silly excursion and retreat to a heavily-guarded air lane where Louise would be safe. But she knew with bitter certainty that the girl would never accept it. She didn't need to ask or even see Louise's face to know that. She had to visit the bridge again.

"Kirche."

Looking up from her chair, Kirche cleared her throat and gave Tabitha a pointed look. Sighing, resigned, she rolled her eyes.

" _Captain_ Kirche," she ground out.

"Yes, ensign?"

She stared. She couldn't _not_ stare. Ensign? Ensign!? She was the Left Hand of God, not some disposable filler material! She levelled a powerfully unimpressed glare at her friend.

"Kirche. We are being hunted. By a mage. All possible speed."

"That's _Captain_ Kirche to you, missy!"

She barely heard it, she was already out, making sure the crew had secured all loose items to account for the coming acceleration. Kirche played her role very well, and knew the stakes better than anyone else. They would be moving regardless of the danger.

* * *

That had thrown him for the night, but the sun hadn't even passed its zenith and he had already found them again.

This time, he came with a flight of dragoons at his back.

 _Fire-aligned. Slower, but this ship is still flammable. A distraction?_

"You know, girlie, I'm starting to think this guy is a fan of mine!" Ignoring the sword's quips, she murmured some terse instructions for the gunners into the tubes to not waste ammo unless necessary and gave a sharp whistle to rouse her own napping dragon.

"Delta red null. High." Her clipped tone made it clear that it wasn't time for play. Tabitha swung her body over the rail of the cavalry launch, mounting smoothly as Sylphid rose to meet her. They were aloft and bearing down on the leading edge of the hostile formation in moments, far from the ship.

"Break!" Young as she was, she was still a rhyme dragon and Tabitha had every confidence in her familiar's ability to shred these mundane beasts. But Iron Mask was nearby, so the show-off lizard took all the attention, going above, while Tabitha released her prepared glamour to slip under them and reached for the curious pistol she had acquired from the stockpile of otherworldly relics in Tristain.

It was light - far lighter than any of the more primitive siblings carried by the musketeer corps - and held six bullets with alchemical properties she had yet to tease out the secrets of. Most importantly, though, were its power and accuracy, especially in her hands. In the span of three seconds, she had fired six shots and crippled or killed six dragons. With her off-hand. It hadn't even broken her concealment spell.

 _Terrifying. Wonderful._

Holstering the sidearm, she released the illusion and switched to a flight spell, shooting upward to rejoin her mount so they could take care of the main threat.

"Clever, little dove! Too bad this is checkmate!" While Sylphid was downing the other four dragoons, Iron Mask had interposed. "It's been fun playing with you! Aquila!"

Bastard.

Bloody bastard.

He had _waited_ for her. He wasn't fooled for an instant, had _sacrificed_ ten dragons to distract her, and still wanted to be close enough that he could get his last digs in.

He wasn't even planning to finish her off with magic.

Bastard.

 _I really didn't want to use this already..._

A normal mage in spell-flight would be helpless when facing down the talons and beak of a flying apex predator. A normal mage would be beside herself in fear. She wasn't so vain that she couldn't appreciate that Iron Mask's mount, "Aquila" he was called, was a magnificent specimen of gryphon-kind. It was quite the shame, what was about to happen.

Her heavy metal staff really wasn't as well-attuned as her wooden one had been, and its limits were nearer and harder to overcome. But...

Bracing the broad, boxy end on her shoulder, she brought the narrow end up and looked down its length at the oncoming beast.

"Sorry."

She pulled the trigger of the rifle called "Boys" and the resounding report of an anti-tank shell was near-instantly followed by the rear of the majestic eagle head bursting with viscera and Iron Mask shouting in shock as he held his side. She rolled with the recoil that would have broken several bones in her shoulder without the blessings of the Void and the inertia of the dead beast with its shocked passenger carried them harmlessly past. She was already sliding the massive bolt to chamber the next round and take him off guard from an angle he couldn't defend from.

 _Still alive. Soft tissue only._

She adjusted her aim, and fired at his centre mass, but somehow he managed to react, thrusting an arm surrounded by an extremely dense air pocket up in time and twisting his body away. He jerked - probably in some combination of surprise and pain - when he acquired another graze as the heavy slug tore through his barrier and punched a blossoming hole in the armour of his shoulder.

She rolled over and allowed herself to come to a neutral hover, lowering the massive rifle through which she was still channelling the flight spell while he shot downward in a bobbing and weaving pattern that would be nearly impossible to hit.

 _He'll be back again._

"Hope you've got more aces in those sleeves, girlie," Derflinger cautioned. "You showed off more than he did."

"Mmm."

* * *

Allard Rutger considered himself rather well travelled. Son of a fur trader, he had grown up on the road and had spent ample time in all five major nations for one reason or another. It was getting close to seven years with the Breakers, too, and he wasn't looking to quit. It was challenging, rewarding work that exercised the mind for _practical_ things. None of that "suppose you..." or "imagine that you have..." here! Everything was an overt calculus that came in forms like, "if we hang ballast on the port hardsails, will we be able to right this vessel with block bracing and some rearrangement or will we have to rig a tug drop?" "Will the fresh timber around this crash site be strong enough remount the windstone engine or will we need to get a spellwright in to redo the reinforcements before we get her back to the assessor?" "Should we go after the wool shipment that will be an easy recovery or the paper that will take several days time?"

(The answers to these questions are, respectively, "yes, but the tug is faster, easier, _and_ safer so why even bother", "should be fine if you shear the original mounts and use them as a laminate material" and "both, because you can pay the wool carrier crew to help and still make bank because the salvage assessor taxes are lower than the actual import taxes and they probably don't know that".)

Look, the point is he wasn't a moron, and he was sure something weird was going on with this little jaunt they'd been hired for from the very start. The circumstances were weird, the ship was weird, the "captain" was a lunatic, and the less said about their other "passengers", the better. And the guns! What were they thinking, replacing forty proper cannons with a dozen little peashooters to run a full Albion blockade? They weren't even musket-sized, most of them! Saving weight is one thing, but...

Well, that was what he _had_ thought, at least.

That was before the redhead had shown up in the officer's uniform of the Germanian Youth Auxiliary and had them running though the list of shakedown exercises given a full warship. Before the young Vallière had casually drawn enough gold from the government vaults to massively expedite refit of the ship, get no-expenses-spared spellwork overseen by what he'd thought was their secretary, and still pay the whole crew two months of their average takings. And certainly before the quiet, waifish book-reading girl used a squadron of aerial raiders on a proving flight to demonstrate and teach of the sorcery she called "tracers", giving several of their number the chance to get used to the thunderous hammering of the hellish devices that could shred the beasts with impunity.

He shivered a little, remembering the impression she left when she was "thinning their numbers so they'd be good for training", that minuscule gesture of a barely-there malevolent smirk.

So one might call the appearance of ordinary pirates - with no flying mages for Dame Tabitha to fly off the handle over - a welcome reprieve after the tense "excitement" of the first leg of their journey.

 _She's certainly earned her right as the namesake of this ship..._ Not that he didn't trust his mates! But, not having seen it for himself, he thought there was still a good chance they were having him on. Right? _I mean, it's longer than she is tall!_ Unlike the other guns, she had adamantly refused anyone else to even touch it, but with decades of cargo assessment he trusted his eye for these things and... yeah. _It must weigh as much as a small child, yet she swings it around effortlessly? Magic is bullshit._

Oh right, pirates. They were flying a black flag, probably assuming that this svelte and apparently-unarmed craft was just some pleasure yacht that had gone astray and they'd be banking a hefty ransom soon. It sure looked the part.

Pity, that.

The bell of general quarters shook him to action, and he busied himself with letting loose the lanyards that battened tarpaulin over the bulge of the deck turret, humming a jaunty tune as he did. And why not? Life was honestly pretty grand when your employer's not a screw-up! (The Titan Salvage Company had all learned very quickly that these noble schoolkids didn't muck about when it was time to get things done.)

So sure, there were pirates coming for them and that was fairly awful. Allard had no love for pirates, not after what happened to a shipment of Marten pelts about seventeen years prior. He absently rubbed the stump of finger they took in that altercation. Conversely... while he wasn't really sure what "4.5-inch QF" truly meant, he was pretty sure it had something to do with dropping the red hot hammer of God on the poor outlaw schmucks who were so brazenly closing the distance. He smiled broadly.

It never hurts to end the day on a high note.

Hitting the pirate ship ended up taking four shots before one connected. It turned out to be more than enough, the bloom of explosive fire mangling the hull and setting off the powder in the hold. As the two halves of the Gallian war sloop traced a burning arc toward the ground, Allard let out a low whistle and patted the turret housing fondly.

"I have _got_ to get me one of these!"

* * *

#AN: Figuring out what precisely they threw on this airship was an important part of my research for this arc. It may come as a surprise, but the 4.5"/45 Mark V twin mount is cited at only 44,706 kg, well under my budget of ~75 tonnes. (Iron cannons are extremely heavy!)


	22. Enter, the Procrastinatrix

#AN: Well, this has been a long time coming. I was buckled down and _barely reading_ to get this out by... err., by Christmas. Whoops. Two days isn't too bad. I've actually got the next two chapters more-or-less complete and even a big chunk of the arc finale written, so I might try to release one every few days.

So yeah, don't be put off by the short length this time- you must understand, I _had_ to end it there. I didn't have a choice. It was too perfect.

As always, thank you all for your patience and support and I hope you're having a wonderful, low-stress holiday.

* * *

Chapter 19: Enter, the Procrastinatrix

As the two halves of the Gallian war sloop traced a burning arc toward the ground, and the rest of the crew cheered, Louise let out a low groan.

Pirates were one thing. No, that was honestly a fairly meet fate for the scourge of the skies. But they couldn't possibly use such a weapon against... really, anything they weren't willing to destroy utterly. She needed to have words with Kirche and Tabitha about using less... final... methods on Albion vessels.

 _And I need to talk to Tabitha anyway._

Blockade or not, they were still the people of Albion and the Standard Articles of Diplomacy were in effect. Without a letter of marque, they had no right to be destroying ships of their nominal allies. Unless they had decided to fly under the traitors' colours? Skimming the relevant sections of the copy she had in her quarters below deck, States in the midst of a coup d'état seemed something of a grey area.

 _Probably best to not ruin more tonnage than strictly necessary; the Rightful government will appreciate that once this silly uprising is over._

Closing the comparatively thin volume (being that it was a legal text, three fingers of thickness was, in fact, rather light), she rose to ensure they didn't accidentally declare war on either of the Albion governments.

* * *

"Ah, Ambassador Peach! I think you may be a genius!" Kirche dragged a bemused Louise into a less-asphyxiating-than-usual hug with this proclamation.

 _Not suffocating,_ Louise mused, _is certainly a perk of this silly costume she's wearing._

As usual, nothing went as she planned. Where did it go wrong? Some time between her mention of the Articles and suggesting that "kill everyone we see" might not be a sound long-term strategy. She wasn't sure what precisely had done it, but...

"XO, you know what to do. Make it so~!"

 _...Well, at least someone is getting_ something _out of this nonsense._

"Helm, you heard the Captain! Engine room, back us down to half. No, a quarter. And get a deckhand to fly the flags for engine trouble!"

Well. If Kirche wanted Louise to take credit for Kirche's idea, that was... well, it was _Kirche's_ idea, so maybe it was dangerous. But she felt like she roughly understood the plan and - she suppressed a shudder - approved.

 _Momma, I regret to inform you I find myself in the unenviable position of agreeing with a Zerbst. This is not an isolated incident. I fear it may be terminal. Love, Louise_

But... it was Kirche. She couldn't justify reducing her to just "a Zerbst" after sharing a bed. Repeatedly. She blinked.

 _In retrospect, I don't even._

Still, she wouldn't have believed it before, but Kirche seemed so natural, so _at home_ in the seat of power on an airship. The contrast between the obnoxious bullying tart with no sense of decency she knew from school and this smartly-dressed woman radiating authority while still being unmistakably _her_ was hard to believe. And she had volunteered for this. Eagerly. Did that make this the "real" Kirche, then? Was their schooling just a diversion, or was all of this... this "ship mania" simply another form of "play" for her? Tabitha mentioned once that Kirche had trouble with authenticity, but Louise wasn't sure that was quite right. How could anyone look so _vibrant_ if their heart wasn't in it?

Which was all a _massive_ digression. Kirche had a plan and, strange as it was too admit, it was a sensible one for which she seemed to have execution well in-hand.

Shaking her head to dismiss the wool gathering journey she had taken, she decided it was time to get out from underfoot in the con and attempt resolving a different important conversation. Again.

 _Uuuuu, I_ really _need to talk to Tabitha!_

* * *

Right. Talking to Tabitha.

It wasn't that she hadn't tried to broach the subject, though! Things just kept coming up right as she was getting to it! Like Iron Mask. And pirates. And a dragon with a stomachache. But it couldn't wait any longer. In truth, she was a little frustrated.

 _Okay, Louise. It's a simple chat._

It wasn't. It wasn't and she couldn't fake herself out by claiming otherwise.

 _Fine, it's not a simple chat, but this is for **the Princess**._

That helped enough to get her through the door.

"Tabitha!" Louise barged into the cramped quarters, as a girl on a mission. There was her target, sitting cross-legged on the bunk, meditating, but for the single half-lidded eye focused on her.

She froze, mouth open and finger raised as though she were still talking. Thoughts of the princess turned out to be enough to get her through the door... and no further.

This impromptu staredown continued for what felt like a small eternity as Louise tried to work past the awkwardness. Tabitha closed her eyes fully and shifted to a more ordinary sitting position a little to the right. She looked back up at Louise with both eyes this time and patted the spot next to her, mustering something that wasn't quite entirely unlike a half smile as an invitation.

Accepting, grateful for the extra few seconds to collect thoughts, Louise sat and deflated sightly, the tension receding somewhat as a wave of tranquility washed over her. She took a detour from her worries to marvel at the power of small gestures from someone who had started as a distant peer-cum-familiar and became a dear friend in very short order. Tabitha could see she was troubled and make her feel better without even a word needed. It was... warm.

She very nearly faltered, so tempting was it to just bask in that sense of... security.

 _But it's for Ann..._

"Tabitha... I need your help," she ventured. "Before we left, you see, Ann came to me, asking me to find her cousin Wales and retrieve a letter from him." She received no response.

The silence stretched on and Louise started to get angry at the treatment. She turned her head to more properly address her friend and was met with a thunderous glare. She flinched.

 _What? What's her problem?_

"Was it an order?" Tabitha whispered with deadly intensity.

"W-what?"

"This foolish errand. Did she command it of you as a ruler?" Tabitha's irritation was nearly contagious and Louise felt herself getting worked up. Calling something the princess asked for foolish?

"No! But she's my friend and I intend to help her no matter what!"

"Then we cannot. It's far too dangerous."

"But... but she's _important_ to me!" she was feeling desperate, trying to get through to Tabitha, to impress upon her the _necessity_ of her mission.

" _You're_ important to _me!"_ she gestured emphatically. They had, at some point risen to face each other, both visibly seething. "If she wanted it to be an official mission, she should have made it one! Your safety is too important. _She_ should know that."

That was the final straw for Louise. It wasn't entirely rational, but she was just so _angry_ , and that slight against _Princess Henrietta_ drove her to say something unforgivable.

"As your Master and embodiment of the Founder's will, I command you to take me, familiar!"

Tabitha reeled back as if slapped. She didn't need to see the crushing despair play over her (former?) best friend's face because she felt it acutely herself the moment she realised what she had said.

"I see." Tabitha's expression had quickly and far-too-easily settled into what she _knew_ to be a mask of chilly indifference, a fortress of ice to keep out all intruders. Seeing that front directed at her cut to the bone. Frozen in horror, she couldn't do anything to prevent Tabitha from brushing past her and sweeping out of the room.

"Ah... no... what? What just happened?" Louise dropped to her knees, hugging herself as the warmth seemed to leach out of her. "F-foremost! A... a noble must... I..." The tears that had been building began to fall. "Tabitha..." she wept.


	23. Waiting Games

#AN: I admit, as is distressingly usual when Kirche gets involved, she kind of stole the bulk of this chapter. But even though it wasn't planned for that break to be so long, it was nice to work in some world-building details that might not come up otherwise.

* * *

Chapter 20: Waiting Games

Louise was miserable.

Some of it was the biting chill of the Albion spring. Some of it could be attributed to the prior day spent riding after a long period of allowing those skills lie fallow. Still more could be traced back to the fitful rest she had caught huddled near a guttering campfire's meagre warmth.

But the great bulk was simply that she was a monster.

It wasn't that she had never considered the implications of her very _human_ "familiar". Her girlhood dreams of commanding some great beast or another took on a distinctly unsettling pallor when applied to the outcome of the ritual. And that was fine. As misplaced fantasy gave way to a better reality, she resolved that those foolish flights of fancy would be best left buried.

 _And then the moment my own base hedonism fails to be satisfied, I allow something so heinous to be aired. I am truly the worst._ She felt herself getting angry again, despite her best efforts. The Rules... they just weren't helping now.

 _Is this all I am, now? Just another piece of overly-entitled filth?_

Her sullen musing was cut short by Tabitha returning to the clearing and gesturing for her to make ready for departure.

No words were exchanged between them.

 _And that's just desserts._

Despite the rigours of the search for Wales, she still considered it more than she deserved. She wasn't even sure _why_ they were doing it. Maybe Tabitha still held some small amount of regard for her? Or it was done as a sort of last hurrah and they would no longer have anything to do with one another after this?

 _Or maybe,_ her treacherous imagination supplied, _maybe I really_ have _subverted her free will. It would figure._

All she had to go on was a frigid, "You have thirty minutes to prepare. Behave or we come back."

The princess's ring felt like a lead weight on her finger.

* * *

Kirche sighed again. Truthfully, she found herself doing that a lot lately, sighing. She had managed to win some of Louise's regard, if not outright affection; a positive relationship was far better than the unrestrained animosity she had held previously. But it wasn't without its headaches. The temper that was generally a point of charm could also cause problems without end.

Case in point, her current situation.

"And I've told you gentlemen already that the Ambassador is not receiving guests at this time; her bout of illness prevents it." She chastised the mounted messenger party from the dreadnought hovering several hundred mail above them. Sure, if it came to blows, they could certainly demolish the vessel even with their disadvantageous position (i.e. trench moored in a forest) with almost contemptuous ease, but she really didn't want to take the slight chance of damage in the first place. With good reason.

 _Clean, stately lines and a very strong traditional feel. Very classy._

Very good reason.

 _But the hull's in great shape, especially for keeping to this altitude; recently out of dock or a special treatment?_

The _best_ reason.

 _Interesting, are those steel plates? I'd need to get a drill on one to be sure, but it would be nice to find they've finally cracked their furnace issue._

It was, after all, a _nice_ dreadnought!

There was a whole "don't cause an international incident under someone else's flag" thing somewhere in her thought process, too, but it played second fiddle to the important matters.

 _Though I suppose that_ would _be rather rude after the boon I received..._

Thus, she was having a go at diplomacy. In truth, it was probably for the better that neither Louise nor Tabitha were around for this. Deftly, she kept the thread of conversation going, leaving them none the wiser to where her flitting attentions were actually focused.

"And since the altitude and spot of minor turbulence exacerbated her condition, I took the opportunity to set us down in this forest clearing to effect engine repairs." Her tone was gentle and her cadence slow, as though she was explaining things to a child.

 _To be fair, they're clearly green recruits. Cowards, sending kids who can't even defend themselves should we be hostile._

"Understood, ma'am. Would you like us to send our healer's mate or engineers to assist?"

"Boy, you'd do well not to insult our delegation by implying this crew isn't the best of the best! Tristain holds its diplomatic missions to the highest standard!" she barked out, leaning in slightly in menace. The poor kid who asked the question straightened up right quick, his fellows taking a subtle half step back in a bid to avoid her ire.

"Yes, ma'am! Sorry, ma'am!" She pinned him with a look, meeting his eyes until the discomfort caused him to squirm. He lasted longer than she expected.

"No, you're not. If you were sorry, you'd have done your job and left already. You maggots have got a lot to learn about when and where to open your mouths." She reached into her coat pocket and withdrew a polished hardwood pipe that consumed her attention for a minute of packing it with some of her favored leaf. Flicking her stare back up she realised the squad was still standing at attention before her, being very quiet. She didn't even bother to hide her glare. "Yes, that will be all, you sorry sacks of trash! Now get off my ship."

"Yes, ma'am!" they chorused.

She rolled her eyes and turned to lean on the top deck railing, the clomp of riding boots signaling that she could take a moment of respite. Snapping her fingers to produce a small flame, she took a puff from the pipe, letting the special blend suffuse her with its calm.

The throat clearing behind her ruined _everything_.

"Uhm... ma'am?" With predatory grace, she whipped her head around. It was one of the trio of wyvern riders who she had _very clearly dismissed._

"You're still on my ship," she noted blandly, "when I'm _sure_ you were told in no uncertain terms _by me personally_ that you should _not_ be any longer." She stalked forward one step. Then two. He looked like he was ready to combust at a moment's notice. "Now why would you do a silly thing like that?" But he didn't step back.

"I-I-I'm, err, that is, I n-n-needed to... t-t-to... uh..." She sniffed, unimpressed at his stuttering, and subtly adjusted to a less threatening mien. She rolled her eyes again, not even bothering to hide her exasperation.

"Stop. Take a deep breath, right, like that, now out. Good. Now stop jawing like a fish and say what you're going to say."

"Yes, ma'am. I'm dreadfully sorry to impose further upon your time, but I felt it prudent to warn you that these woods have a powerful haunting. Madness, delusions, and death have oft befell those who venture too deep."

Well, wasn't that interesting. The corner of her lips turned up.

"I see. Restless spirits, perhaps? Or a cabal of fey?" She was excited at the prospect of some action. Subterfuge was effective, but it didn't get the blood moving in quite the right way. "Either way, your warning is apropos and appreciated. What is your name, boy?"

"Jacob, ma'am. This is very near my home village."

"Is that so? And how did you come to join the military, Jacob?" Sheepish, he gestured at himself. He was, to be blunt, scrawny.

"I'm not well-built for timbering and several lean winters saw to it that I'd be small for life. When Reconquista swept through and liberated us, they showed me a role that I was well suited for, ma'am! They gave me purpose! It's the first time I've not cursed my runty body!"

Inwardly, she scoffed. Poor kid had no idea what he was doing. At least being a messenger was relatively safe. Still, his puppy-like excitement was kind of adorable.

"Would that more of us could find value in service of our nation," she agreed vaguely. She gestured him over to the rail and turned back to study the gloom below the canopy of the placid forest. Letting the moment stretch, she had another drag and blew a stream of smoke, then hooked a finger into the cloud and idly started shaping it before the wind could take the heat out of it.

Ball.

Pyramid.

Cube.

Star.

Ah.

Four shapes before the ever present chill of Albion swept it away. He either didn't notice or wasn't bothered by her casual display of cantrip, so she offered up the pipe. He managed to have a pull without coughing... much. Greenhorn. But he seemed comfortable enough that she could now get what she wanted.

"Sooooo, Jacob..." Kirche turned up the charm. "What's the real situation with the royalists? Will this takeover be done with soon or will trade in Albion fall apart for years?" It probably wasn't necessary to bat her eyelashes - in point of fact, it was completely inappropriate - but old habits die hard.

"Oh, you haven't heard? The whole thing's just about buttoned!"

A puppy: eager to please and no concept of "operational security".

"Two days from now, a major force of our best is going to assault their final outpost. Five thousand strong!"

"My! Will you be among their number?" She feigned a bit of worry. Of course he wouldn't. If she thought there were even the slightest chance of his involvement, she would have been much more outspoken.

"Oh, no ma'am, I'm not nearly at that level yet. I've only been riding solo for a month."

"Probably for the better, that. Messengers at the front have a bad time of things. And where will this be happening? We'll want to avoid it if it happens to be on our path coming or going from Londinium..."

"No, ma'am, that won't be in any of the major airways to Tristain for another... seven months or so? Newcastle is about a third arc antiwards of here near the coast."

"I see, thank you for that tip." She blew a pair of rings and joined them into a chain, waving it about before letting it go. "Very well then, Jacob, on behalf of my crew and the delegation of Tristain, you have our gratitude for your advice." She pushed off and he took the hint to fall in. "Knowing when to open your mouth and why is a skill possessed by too few."

"Ma'am!" He puffed to attention at her praise. It was even honest enough. Reaching out, she ruffled his sandy brown hair and snorted at his groan of protest.

"Just remember, Jacob... you can do better still. I know this or my name isn't Kirche of Zerbst." She smiled enigmatically, then her expression turned stony in an instant. "Dismissed! Go away or I'll roast your lizard!"

He barely snapped off a salute before he was mounted and gone.

"So, Newcastle in two days?" She tapped the ash from the pipe into her hand and studied it for several seconds. She sighed again. Her relationship with Louise caused that sort of thing unfortunately often. "I suppose we had better embark tomorrow evening to pick them up, then. It's all right, it's all right, the most gracious and lovely Captain Kirche will rescue you from your own poor decisions, Louise!"

But first, she had to see Mathilda about a ghost hunt...

* * *

Looking back, Louise would always have difficulty remembering through the haze of her own dark thoughts when and where things happened. Rather than the calculus of time, it was a series of cold, lonely sojourns punctuated by cold, lonely waiting for Tabitha to return with information from whatever hamlet, village, or roadhouse they happened to stop near. She had followed Tabitha in only once, hoping to take some of the chill from her body, but her inability to pretend at being a commoner only served to sow stony silence and recalcitrant villagers. They had changed their bearings after that point just in case.

 _Yet another way Tabitha is better than me._

It was disheartening to take in the broad scope of her best fr-

 _No. I have no right to call her that now._

-of _Dame Tabitha's_ varied skills and experiences. Even knowing some of how they came about, it was still a testament to her talent and resilience that she had managed to not just succeed, but excel.

 _There I go, getting distracted again. Focus, Louise! This is important!_

And it was. Maybe more important than anything she had ever done.

The better part of a day of silence and soreness is a good time for reflection and introspection. The source of her disproportionate anger, she hoped, might offer her a clue. Louise was, despite the immenseness of her blunder, intent on mending the great rent she carved between them.

 _She's the best thing that's ever happened to me. I_ must _fix this._

If only she knew how.


	24. Life-Changing Moments

Chapter 21: Life-Changing Moments Seem Minor in Pictures

It all came back to the anger, she decided.

She had gone over the scene in her mind's eye more times than was strictly healthy at this point, but she couldn't figure out what had incensed her to the point of dredging up the most hurtful thing she could possibly say, hurling it in the face of someone who had adroitly slipped inside her defenses from the start and quickly become dear to her.

It just wasn't making sense. She even tried replicating the feeling, but the attempt just left her cold and sad. Colder and sadder, really; she was, at that very moment, curled into the soft leathery nook between the dragon's neck and belly formed when Tabitha's own familiar curled up to preserve its warmth while she was off making another inquiry. It helped break the wind and provide insulation, but she was still mostly numb in body and spirit.

She closed her eyes.

When she opened them next, the dragon was shifting to stand for departure. Tabitha had come back.

Groggy and sluggish, she reflexively met Tabitha's eyes briefly in askance. To her surprise the answer didn't follow the established pattern.

"Newcastle. Last stand. Tomorrow."

She wasn't sure this progress was an improvement.

They flew.

No longer needing to search, they flew as though an enemy army was nipping at their heels. According to Tabitha's words, there _was_ an enemy army.

That was annoying.

And the flying and the cold and the uncertainty and the mess she had caused by running her mouth and invoking the inherently unequal bond they shared. She was quite cross about all that.

But the finest wine of rage was reserved for her own loathsome self. She who invested so much of herself into everything she did and always, always, **_always_** ended up where she started with nothing. Just a _Zero._ It was too much.

 _...It's too much!_

With a start, she shook off the oppressive anger that had come over her, one arm desperately extricating itself from around Tabitha's waist to massage her head.

 _It's too much. Something is wrong with me._

She was on the verge of panic.

The first such motion in nearly two days, it drew her fellow rider's attention, Tabitha twisting about to verify that her passenger wasn't on the verge of death even though they weren't exactly on good speaking terms.

In an instant that she recalled better than any of the rest of the poorly-planned trip, Louise saw: the subtle tightening of her jaw, the barely-there furrow of her brow...

"The bond! We're _leaking emotions!_ " she hissed.

She felt - no, _observed._ Observed with startling clarity now that she knew where and how to look within herself - the foreign anger give way to shock and Louise felt her own rage recede further in turn.

* * *

Loading all the worldly possessions of a destitute orphanage onto a ship took time, but they were making short work of it and the quartermaster projected they'd have ample time to make their "appointment" at Newcastle without pushing the _Freischütz_ anywhere near her limit.

They didn't even have to fend off vengeful fey!

Such a letdown.

Despite her disappointment at not getting any "swashbuckling" in, determining exactly how the girl Tiffania was doing some of the things she'd heard about might make for a good consolation prize.

Some things were difficult even with magic, like modifying memories. How, then, was someone who was _supposedly_ a largely-untrained hedge witch pulling off a feat that, taken at face value, would confound even the best water mages of the college? It was too delicate for fast spellwork if you wanted it to stick, and the reagents were too expensive for regularly targeted changes with potions. Some sort of ritual? But that would mean a conspiracy and leyline bindings and carefully-maintained locations for anchors and... no way, no how. No Germanian with any pride in her ancestral hearth would miss a ritual site. So how?

 _I suppose I'll have to pull the devil aside and ask some questions!_

It wasn't hard to find the splash of long wheat-gold tresses towering over a gaggle of youngsters, even with the shabby straw hat she wore. Being the Captain, it was a trivial matter to pull her aside and let the kids burn off some residual energy fighting over what bunks they'd get.

"Uhm... greetings, Miss... Lady Captain von Zerbst? Mathilda said nice things. And not-so-nice things, but I'm sure she didn't mean those..." Even from the very first moment,, she exuded a sort of sheltered innocence that had Kirche convinced that she truly believed what she was saying.

 _Ah, so that's how it feels to have the heartstrings plucked. Hot ash, this girl might be a national treasure! Does this count as looting?_

Up close, Tiffania was toeing the line of being entrancing even as she fidgeted nervously, furtively keeping her guard up. She was only of slightly above-average height - half a head shorter than Kirche, but probably a full head on Tabitha - and she had broad childbearing hips that gave her a curvaceous beauty evident even through the threadbare frock she wore. But... that chest.

That chest.

 _That's a lot of boob_. It took a lot to beat Kirche in that department, but this girl... it was too close to call. _Maybe we can do a more direct... oh right, business before pleasure!_

But it was hard to not stare a little.

"My, to think Tillie's so-called 'sister' was such a treat for the eyes! I see why she wants to hide you away!" Kirche punctuated her quip by lifting the wide-brimmed hat off the busty blonde's head to get a better look at her face.

Her mouth went dry.

"I see why she wants to hide you away," she deadpanned.

"Will... will this be a problem?" Tiffania's eyes were welling with unshed tears. Kirche hastily replaced the hat and awkwardly patted her on the head.

"I... ah, that is to say... right, 'sins of the father' and all that, right? You're a victim as much as any of these kids. Right." Tiffania, she decided, was too cute to be real. Like an eternal daughter in the guise of a... a **_woman._** Emphasis very necessary. "Just... if you see a girl with pink hair, it'll be best if you don't let her know right at the spark. She has... 'tradition issues'." _And body image issues, but you're even_ less _equipped to deal with that, now aren't you._

"I see." And it was clear she did. Those bright baby-blue eyes clouded over very fast indeed at the reminder of her harsh reality.

"Still, she's a good girl at heart and I'm sure she'd warm up to you quickly enough!" The warm smile that earned her was, she decided, worth it.

Tiffania begged off to straighten out the kids after a couple more minutes of idle chatter and Kirche waved at her back, wearing a dopey smile. By the time she realised she had utterly failed at learning anything about the woman's magic, she was below deck and thus had a handy bulkhead to beat her head against repeatedly.

She rested her forehead on the wall, taking a moment to gather herself and her mind kept in stable orbit around the topic of the buxom young _half-elf_ that was now under her protection.

It was a fairly major rocking of the proverbial boat, much more than she had expected from Mathilda the Sculptor. Desperation?

"Yeah, wow, can definitely see why she didn't say anything. Didn't see _that_ coming at _all."_

"See what, ma'am?"

She wasn't startled and did not squawk. Nice try, deckhand!

"Oh, nothing important~!" The lilt of her voice was playful, but her expression was anything but. "I just found out I'm going to have to light our secretary on fire after this little prank!"

* * *

Emotions were leaching through the familiar bond. Bidirectionally. Her mind was churning double-time to process the implications. On the surface, it would be a fair assessment to call a literal sharing of emotions "bizarre". But that was immaterial to the more important facet that she now had something that could work; that _must_ work! She finally saw a path to save her relationship with her small stoic protector, and she was going to take it without hesitation.

 _Hesitation is part of what started this in the first place!_

Working up her nerve, she initiated The Most Important Conversation.

"May we land? I... have something I need to say." Tabitha didn't respond verbally, but they started descending toward a rocky outcropping that looked like it might shield them from the winds. She focused on the impressions she was getting from Tabitha and didn't find any excess anger or disgust; slight irritation and some... fatigue? She was still learning, so some of the impressions were unclear. The jolt of landing broke her reverie and they dismounted.

Standing before each other, sizing each other up, called back memories of their argument (such as it was). She held back the tears.

"Tabitha... I need to apologise. I know I can't take back that I said it and you're _entirely right_ to be angry at me still. Even the circumstance of this bond can't be blamed because I was the one who allowed our anger to overcome her reason. If you decide..." she choked up a bit at this point. "... If you decide you no longer want anything to do with me after this I'll... I-I understand. I'll do everything in my power to break this and give you the freedom you deserve." And that was the easy part out of the way. She pressed onward. "I'll do it. For you, I'll do it... but it's not what I want. I probably don't deserve it, and I know it'll never be the same. 'Nothing broken is ever perfect again', and trust is no different. But even still, I want to go back to how we were. I want to call you my best friend and for you to accept that's genuine. I..." she shifted back and forth on her feet, clearly uncomfortable. "I don't wanna be alone..." She had looked away but now met Tabitha's eyes which were misty with tears as well. She probably looked like she was blushing. Damn cold weather.

She held up a hand to forestall any comments, though.

"I've been rather out of port, since we left the ship. Thinking. Soul searching." She started pacing unconsciously. "I've wanted to say all of that since. There's more I want to say yet, even! But the thing is, I couldn't fathom how I could possibly express my _sincerity._ What could I say or do that you'd believe me? Promise? Give you my word? Swear on my name?" She scoffed at her initial thoughts. "I've already shown you much more directly that my word amounts to a capricious and vile thing; what would be the point?" She stopped and sagged, hugging herself close. "Action? What could I possibly do that you cannot? And what would it take anyway?

"But now, that's changed. _Everything_ has changed." Straightening, she crossed the distance to stand before Tabitha again with a soft expression. Tentatively, gingerly, she took one hand between her two and held it close. "Can you feel it, Tabitha? Can you feel me? I'm incapable of deceiving you now." She grinned hopefully as she felt the wisp of shock pass between them. The grin widened as Tabitha pulled her into a firm hug.

"Dummy," she whispered.

 _Wait, what?_ Confused, she voiced the sentiment.

Tabitha was never the most wordy individual, tending to say much with little, so she resolved to be patient as the halting explanation came.

"You... hurt me. But I wasn't angry at you."

"Then why... Even without our... our mingling... I think I'd be able to tell you were mad. But what could possibly-"

"Henrietta," Tabitha interrupted. Perhaps getting a sense for how sensitive the subject was, she elaborated quickly. "She _personally_ charged me with your protection. Explicitly. The reliquary was opened because of _you_ and you alone. Despite this, she has the gall to go behind my back and, with a selfish and unreasonable request, put you in more danger? Irresponsible or malicious. She must know you would never refuse her."

Aaaaand now she felt like a heel all over again.

"It... it wasn't like that..." Her protest sounded weak even to her ears. "...probably," she meekly followed. Intellectually, she had to admit Tabitha had good reason to be peevish about the princess. Still, that question led to more. Like... "Wait, then why did you even agree to this? Why have we spent a day and a half chasing across the Albion countryside if that was the case? Why did you humour me?"

"I... nearly made a similar mistake," she admitted. "If you hadn't said what you had, this would be reversed." She curled into herself in... shame? "If you are a monster, Louise, then I am truly a much worse one."

"No! As your friend, I cannot let that stand!"

"But..."

"No!" She was holding Tabitha by the shoulders and giving her a stern look. "No one gets along all the time and sometimes people say things they don't mean. I know this better than most. You are no monster for merely thinking about something and I won't accept you thinking otherwise! I won't have it!" She took a deep breath, bleeding off the passionate advocacy for a more sympathetic tone. "Tabitha, for all that you're an extremely hardy and exceptionally powerful girl, you're still a girl. And that's fine. I like that Tabitha too." Tabitha's grateful smile was a mean thing, but it met the important condition of reaching her eyes. That was, Louise decided, good enough for now.

"I can't promise I'll never be dumb and I know I'll be a bother to you again, but I'll give my absolute all to never be horrible to you again. And when something is wrong, I will swear to always listen when you need an ear or help if it's something I can fix."

Tabitha seemed to study her intently for several minutes as they stood huddled close in the lee of a stone formation in the Albion Highlands. Then she nodded once.

"We go."

It was fine; Louise hadn't expected any more dialogue, but she could feel the gratitude behind it all the same. They had more challenges to face in the future, but the hard part was over.


	25. Writing in the Wind

#AN: This was rather difficult to write, but I'm very happy with one character in particular. Care to guess who that is?

* * *

Chapter 22: Writing in the Wind

They departed the shabby inn just as the light started to turn the horizon of magnetic East.

It wasn't a good sleep or a long one, but it was with Louise once again and... well, it was complicated. Even if it was a side effect of a runaway feedback loop that they had come out at all, those words had still hurt her terribly. It meant that, somewhere deep down, those words lurked in Louise's heart. Had lurked the whole time. Under any normal circumstance, they would still never recover, but for two extenuating circumstances. First, now that she was actively aware of it, it was shocking just how much influence the bond of empathy they shared had if she let it. It was by choice now, but still, an insidious thing.

The second... well...

She closed her eyes and focused on the bright flame of a feeling she dare not name or call attention to, lest it be replaced with shock or indignation or embarrassment or any of a million other little things that still danced at the periphery but never managed to replace that core. The arms tight around her midriff, the body against her back, the warmth of that feeling streaming through their... "mingling", Louise had called it.

An apt name as any.

Tabitha would trust in that feeling that filled her with its warm glow.

"Tabitha, Tabitha! I think I see it!"

The arms were no longer hugging her, but insistently jabbing fingers into her side to get her attention. Because the yelling in her ear wasn't enough.

 _Believe in the feeling. Not the poking._

It was surprisingly hard.

* * *

For people making a "last stand", the loyalists were lax in security. Or maybe it was Reconquista's lack of dragon knights? Their own lack of livery? The part where they weren't obviously hostile?

Maybe the fools just had a death wish.

 _"Last stand". How insipid._

Glorifying fatalism was something Tabitha could not abide, and the thought of fifty-score young men doggedly pursuing the "glory" of spilling their own lifeblood was enough to raise bile in her throat

They had no concept of how to struggle against terrible odds and no will to prevail. Lambs.

It did make finding the erstwhile Prince Wales much easier. He intended to spend the morning in prayer in the keep's chapel before the slaughter. That was perhaps the only real blessing of the whole event because skirting the rebels' spotters and flyers had eaten more time than she had anticipated, and they would be cutting it close.

At last, the entrance they sought was in sight. Only, as it hove into view it was clear the ornate doors were wide open. She breathed deep as her instincts screamed that something was wrong. Drawing her pistol, she motioned for Louise to stay behind her and leaned into the portal proper.

Her heartbeat quickened.

It was _him_.

Iron Mask.

Showing his back as he stalked toward the man kneeling before altar. She had a chance!

Six reports, six slugs, six vital spots. Six ballistic trajectories altered by overpowering winds.

She holstered the gun and placed her hand on Derflinger's hilt even as the mystery man slowly turned to face her and sighed.

"You know, I was going to let you live a little longer, little girl." His tone betrayed no sense that he had any uncertainty about the outcome of their fight.

 _Dangerous_.

"Louise, run." She was trying to not let her growing alarm bleed over their connection as they sized each other up, one confident, the other cautious.

In the briefest whisper of an instant, steel met steel, a shockwave of displaced air bursting out from the thunderous power behind their clash. Tabitha's rune-empowered physique, bolstered further with a wind sigil from the wand in her off-hand, propelled forward faster than she ever had before. But Iron Mask was faster still. Though she had been granted preternatural skill beyond mortal comprehension, it was still only enough to bridge, but not overcome his natural advantages in reach, mass, and raw magic strength.

"You're wondering how I came to be here," he ventured playfully, casually parrying a thrust that disintegrated a corner of a pew into splinters. "I see the question in your eyes. 'How could it be? Why is he here?'"

Tabitha didn't dignify him with a response. She tried to bait an opening with a lateral chop that was slightly overextended, but he took that opportunity to trip her up with a small dust devil that threw bits of parchment everywhere and she was forced to hop back out of striking range to avoid being skewered in kind. She was nearly back out of the chapel and he was closing in with the sure footwork of an expert.

"That's the problem with nobles. Too naïve. Too convinced of their own infallible _superiority!_ " He was upon her in a blink! There were several seconds of fierce melee that saw the previously linear battle flit about in an expanding circle of devastation to the pristine woodwork of the House of the Lord. Tabitha disengaged, panting and Iron Mask... allowed it. His body language remained calm and confident.

"You keep your guard up well, little girl! But when it comes to the last you seem to fall short!" The breathing room had given him time to channel a larger spell, and a violent miniature cyclone shredded the ground as it tore across the distance to flay her flesh.

Almost exactly as planned.

"Derflinger!" Ducking low, she leapt forward, thrusting the sword of the first Gandalfr into the weave of magics binding Iron Mask's spell together.

"Aww yeah, that's the stuff!" She pushed through the minor resistance and took advantage of his surprise to impale him and tear a-

 _No!_

She hit something as she dashed past him. She was sure of that much. But the damp flecks around her were water, not blood and the feeling... she whipped around instantly appraising, looking for the damage.

 _How?_

"Well isn't that cute, an almost decent hit!" He theatrically brought his free hand up to hook a finger into the jagged hole she'd broken in the mask as she grazed the side of his head. "And a spelldrinker? Now _there's_ something you don't see every day. Were you not so **_slow_** , that might have been dangerous." With a tug, the mask came free, clattering to the ground as the man's white hair flowed free. "Oh well, I've had my fun, I suppose."

"You are-"

"Viscount Wardes! What is the meaning of this treachery!?" A high voice butted in. Tabitha cursed under her breath. Trust Louise to ignore an order to flee for her life.

The now-identified Wardes, on the other hand, bore an expression of twisted delight, and Tabitha was suddenly much more aware that, as much as she stood between him and the prince, _he_ stood between her and _Louise_.

"My, my," he raised his voice, "if it isn't my _lovely fiancee_ , Louise Françoise le Blanc de la Vallière! How are you, poppet? Drown in any gardens lately? Still the same haughty noble _**bitch**_ who can't cast a spell?" Any further protests died on her lips at this savage verbal blow. He turned back to the stunned Tabitha. "Well, this is an interesting impasse isn't it, little girl? You move, the royal twit dies. You don't move, well..." he trailed off with a dark chuckle.

"Why have you come here, traitor?" Louise demanded hotly, actually doing the correct thing, and trying to keep him talking. Tabitha needed _time_ , enough to come up with a plan to extricate them all from this.

"Oooh, now there's a loaded word! 'Traitor.'" He seemed to savour the label, though he didn't relax. If anything, he became slightly more tense. "Tell me, Louise: if you were betrayed by your _precious princess_ , who would you consider the traitor if you then decided to oppose her?" Louise's face contorted and it looked like she was about to bum rush Wardes. "Ah, but you see, she's merely a symptom of a more terrifying rot! Crisis looms and this system has failed us; is failing us still! Look upon them, pathetic royalties, petty and blind, as if the scraps of meagre land they bicker over are worth more than the weight of our collective duty!"

 _What is he talking about? Crisis? He sounds unhinged._

"Well, if the old guard won't do anything, if they can't set aside their differences long enough to focus on what really matters, then I'll tear it down _piece by bloody piece_ with my own two hands!" He was becoming visibly agitated in the frenzy of his tirade but not in a way that left openings in his defense- he never let Tabitha escape his peripheral vision. "I spent my lifeblood building it up! Why _shouldn't_ I be the one to make things right!? **Tell me!** " he roared. He had put Louise on the back foot handily with his passionate incoherence, and Tabitha's racing mind was no closer to anything resembling a working gambit that resolved the situation in her, in _their_ favour.

"By the by," Wardes ventured conversationally with another jarring shift in his manner, "I overheard something truly _fascinating the_ other day. Something about... oh, what _was_ it?" Despite the theatrics of the performance (and it was clear he was indulging himself), he _still_ didn't leave any openings. "Ah, yessss, how could I forget? A foolish besotted maiden in an unfortunate position of power sent a _letter_ to her _cousin_."

Tabitha felt a chill run down her spine. She had thrown herself into the task of finding the prince right after their... incident... in a bid to ignore the heartache. And then she had been so caught up in relishing the newly discovered aspect of their bond that she had neglected to establish the details on the way. Louise didn't have to say anything for Tabitha to pick up on the unpleasant edge of anger mixed with panic wafting over their mingling.

 _Fool girl,_ she berated herself, _losing sight of the mission in enemy territory!_

"It so happens that our Princess Henrietta has been... _veeeeeery **naughty** ,_" he crooned.

"Cowardly spying cur! My conversation with the princess was private!" Louise made no effort to deny his accusation, however. Distressing.

"If it prevents her nuptials binding Tristain to the Old Country, what do I care?" Shock stole over Tabitha's face before she could think to suppress a response as the implications became clear. "Oh ho! I see the wannabe errant understands what the moppet does not!"

"War," she whispered in horrified awe. "You intend war." He grinned too widely, showing his back to Louise as he faced her more fully.

"Indeed! And I will have it, too, with very little effort on my part." Tabitha froze. He took a step forward, his guard full of holes, but she couldn't move, transfixed in horror.

 _It couldn't be..._ Her agile mind attacked the statement from every angle, but there was only one conclusion. He took another step, casual in his confidence.

"Knowing that the thing exists doesn't help when you don't know where it is. It's truly fortunate, then, that there were some inattentive fool who could lead me right to it!"

The weight of the confirmation of her fears hit like a cannonball, and Tabitha's stance crumbled, Derflinger's tip dropping several hands. Past his shoulder, she could see Louise's hands twitching for both her wand and dagger, face ruddy with rage that warred with her vaunted self-discipline. Tabitha hoped desperately that she would avoid rousing the monster even as he nonchalantly closed the distance, only stopping at five paces from her.

"Don't look so sad! We were having such **_fun_** earlier!" His grin stretched even further as he made exaggerated motions of coming up with a great idea. "Oh, I have it! The _perfect_ gift to you who so generously led me to the beginning of the downfall of Tristain!" His expression turned savage. "I'm letting you live to see the results of your failure as our orchestra of battle _burns it all away!_ "

She had no way to prepare for what came next. He seemed to _blur in place_. She had scarcely moved her sword in a last ditch attempt to defend when she felt his presence _behind_ her!

"Better luck next time, little girl." He was gone before his taunting whisper even reached her ear.

 _So fast..._

She knew then that it was too late.

She gave chase anyway.

By the time she had managed to turn, to react meaningfully at all, he was already behind Prince Wales, hauling him up by the neck and pushing him over the altar.

Step.

Using the better angle, Wardes hilted his sword through a kidney up into the chest cavity where the heart and lungs were.

Step.

He drew the blade out in a messy arc, flicking the blood off and sheathing it even as his hands blurred over the still-dying man.

Step.

Wardes plucked a piece of parchment from a hidden pocket and eyed it critically before blowing them a kiss and releasing an unincanted air hammer that blew out the rear wall.

Step.

... She had only made half of the distance to him in that time. She faltered to a stop.

The gryphon waiting for him was smaller than the one she had shot out from under him, but still plenty fast to get away. She made no further effort to prevent it. She heard muffled cries and spell fire as the guards tried in vain to halt his egress.

"A monster," she whispered. He was fast. Powerful. Skilled. Even with the blessing of the Void, she had only barely matched him while he was hampered by a heavy mask that had limited his visibility.

A deep scraping noise and a spike of alarm had her leaping back before a large section of the roof, freed by the loss of the wall and buttresses holding it up, dropped with resounding finality, burying any hope she might have had that she could stabilise the sentimental moron prince with her admittedly limited knowledge of curative magics.

She stared numbly, trying to calm her racing heart. Stiffly, she sheathed the silent Derflinger and walked out of the portal where Louise was waiting, arms hanging listless at her sides.

She was vaguely aware that some her mood was probably coming from Louise, but she didn't much care at that point. She grunted lowly as a blur of pink collided with her, arms snaking around and hauling her in.

"Tabitha! Tabitha! Are you all right! I was so worried! Viscount Wardes is an experienced square mage!" Louise's eyes were shimmering with the beginnings of a full on cry as their eyes met.

 _Ah, that explains it,_ she noted dully. No normal man could do what he had.

"Why did you fight him, he could have... he could have... h-have..." The levees eroded and the tears flowed. She buried her face in the crook of Tabitha's neck, quietly weeping.

 _We could have died. Or worse. By any right, we_ should _have._

"Tabitha, Tabitha, Tabitha," Louise was repeating her name lowly, urgently.

"I'm here," she replied quietly, willing a thread of something like calm through the link between them.

" _This time!_ " Louise had pulled back, a little, meeting her eyes with fire. "This time you survived! What happens if we meet him again!? Or someone else just as strong! Tabitha, I..." Her expression turned stricken, and she squeezed harder. "I can't lose you. I _can't_. I... it's..."

The vice-like hug that had pinned her arms, disappeared, leaving only a hand on her waist and another hesitantly cupping her cheek. In spite of these clear warning signs, Tabitha was still shocked when Louise's lips met her own in a searching kiss, eyes remaining resolutely open until Tabitha dumbly raised her leaden arms and pulled Louise closer against her, lids fluttering shut to focus on the sensation of a new kind of connection.


	26. Autoapocryphy

#AN: The events of this chapter have been planned for... for a long time. Since just before I published the end of the first arc, I think. It's taken far, far longer than I expected to get here, but I'm glad I have. And with this, I've finally, officially, I should think, breached the 50,000 word boundary. As always, thanks to my prereaders, worldbuilding helpers, and those of you who have stuck with me for the last two and a half years. Here's to... well, hopefully, I can get this finished before _another_ 2.5 years passes...

* * *

Chapter 23: Autoapocryphy

 _Soft_ , was her thought, _and warm._

The thought lingered as she tried to convey her desperation and terror with a...

With a...

Numbly, Louise pulled back, desperately trying to regain her bearings.

 _Why did I... what..._

They were still for a time, clutching each other like lifelines, quaking from something more acute than the cold. Louise tried to figure out where everything had gone so wrong.

Tabitha had told her to run, but there was no way she could do that.

Foremost: A noble _faces_ danger with steel in her heart. Running was never an option.

She had watched in awe as her beautiful and divine familiar leapt into battle, a blue blur with no rival; no equal. She was so transfixed, she almost didn't notice Wales ducking behind the altar he had been praying at. Scarcely had he made it to cover when there was a tornado and that dumb sword yelling, and Tabitha suddenly appearing behind the masked interloper with a thunderous whip crack.

They had stopped.

She remembered thinking it was over but then he laughed and revealed his identity to be someone she knew - thought she had known - well. In her anger, she had stepped into the chapel doorway.

 _Foolish! How could I be so foolish!?_ she berated herself.

But she had needed to _know._

 _Know what?_

Whatever it was, she had more questions than answers now. Were his kind words in the past a ruse? Were the venomous barbs he had thrown her way how he had always thought?

She felt...

"Louise, we need to go."

She blinked, focusing on Tabitha's stern countenance right in front of her face. She nodded mechanically, taking the hand that was offered.

* * *

Wales was dead, murdered by the traitor Wardes. The letter they had sought to retrieve was lost as well.

 _In the hands of the enemy. And now their army is assaulting this place. Was this their plan?_

She could grudgingly respect the strategic value of removing an enemy leader at the start of battle.

"We failed."

As they reached the clearing where Sylphid was waiting, Louise stopped, her hand dropping limply from Tabitha's.

"No, not 'we'," she corrected. " _I_ failed. You did everything you could and then some, Tabitha, but I was..." Louise trailed off, unable to bring herself to say the word.

As much as Tabitha wanted to console her, this wasn't the place. Pulling urgently at Louise's elbow, trying to get them mounted and airborne, she didn't see the threat in time. Before either of them registered what had happened, a hulk of blue and white _moved_ , Sylphid flicking a wing out to provide the girls with a leathery shelter just in time to protect them from harm.

She screeched in agony as the volley of burning arrows hit home, tearing numerous nasty holes in the thin membrane and scales of the wing joints. Tabitha left Louise to stand helplessly in shock as she rushed to her Familiar's side to cast a quick spell to douse the remaining flames and ease some of the pain. It wasn't a miracle, though, and their escape route was now grounded.

Whipping her head up to scan the battle line, Tabitha's face contorted in dire fury.

"Stay. Soothe. I have work to do." Louise flinched outwardly and, she could feel, inwardly too, at the chilling address. She looked like she might protest, but it was cut off when Tabitha summoned a gust to bat another hail of arrows out of the air. And then she was gone.

 _You're not the only one with a failure today, Louise. Is this a parting gift from that man? Revenge for his mount?_ Looking at the state of the conflict as she closed the distance, she cursed.

 _They've pressed much faster than I expected. The outer wall has already been overrun!_ She was tired and sore and for once just wanted to go home.

"Come, Derflinger. Let us protect what's left."

* * *

Numbly, Louise nodded as Tabitha took the field of battle. _Real_ battle, with fire and death and _consequence._ Consequence... She fell to the ground, a string-cut puppet, paralysed with fear as much for Tabitha as herself. Nudge. Through the fog of war that had descended on the fields just inside the town wall, she vaguely noted the occasional flash of blue. Nudge. Tabitha was still okay. Still fighting. For how long? They would make her a priority target as she dispatched men by the squad. Nudge. And once Tabitha fell... what was left?

 _Maybe,_ Louise mused, _maybe death will be-_

Again, that insistent nudge at her shoulder curtailing the morbid though. Looking to her left, there was blue. She blinked and leaned back, taking in the huge reptilian face.

"... Sylphid? Are you...?" The giant head shifted with an inquisitive chirp and drew her attention to the awful wound on its wing. Louise hissed in sympathy at how that sort of thing felt. And to think, this dragon was trying to comfort her instead!

 _Unacceptable. Completely unacceptable. Foremost! A noble meets adversity with steel in her heart!_ She scanned the makeshift camp outside the walls of the main keep, forcibly putting their situation out of her mind. Putting _Tabitha and her likely fate_ out of her mind.

Two weeks can change everything.

Spotting the medical tent, she muttered small encouragements as she led the pained dragon around behind it to help keep them out of sight.

 _I only hope dragon first aid is like human first aid..._

"Stay here, all right?" she ventured, hoping it would understand. "I'm going to get bandages." She took a deep breath, drawing her wand, she slinked around the front, suddenly painfully aware that many buildings had been leveled to give line of sight and she was exposed. She could practically trace the path Tabitha was carving through their formations. She paused, catching sight of her friend for just a moment before the image shimmered and dissolved into shards of ice and a fountain of blood that she dearly hoped was not her familiar's.

"I'm scared."

 _No! Move, you fool!_ She slapped her cheeks and refocused on her task, ducking into the tent and trying to stay inconspicuous.

* * *

Finding the things she needed in the haphazard stockpile of goods was taking far more time than she had expected. She had never thought she'd miss the strictly regimented medicine chest from a childhood spent injuring herself and learning to tend her own wounds from her sister.

 _I miss Cattleya..._

Then the explosions started.

Louise was, among nobility of her age, uniquely qualified when it came to recognising explosions. Even without poking her head out, the resounding roar of cannon fire and the answering shout of a cannonball exploding somewhere behind her - against the walls of the keep, most likely - were something she felt strangely comfortable with. Ironically, unwanted detonations were somehow nostalgic when she found herself caught up in the madness of a nation in the throes of suicide.

"Ah, finally! A pox on whoever organised this!"

She dragged the large satchel of linens, bandages, and ointments through the flap; she didn't want to make a second trip if she could help it. She scanned the field and saw there were now ten cannons barking their fury in her general direction. She redoubled her effort to get out of view. Tabitha had more than adequately showed her the terror of the infernal devices and she didn't fancy her chances if one should decide she was worth hunting.

Naturally, that was when her luck ran out.

It wasn't terribly near, lodging itself in the rubble of a wattle and daub building across the road, but it was still a powder-stuffed iron shell far too close for comfort.

Already tense as a coiled spring, Louise hit the dirt, covering her ears and neck just as the primitive bomb detonated.

She was a moment too late.

* * *

Louise was in the dirt. She couldn't remember exactly _which_ dirt, but it happened from time to time. She must have been practicing magic. From the feeling, it was not terrible this time. Probably only a few mail of distance and... yes, only one eardrum ruptured. Good. It was surprisingly hard to talk well when they were both popped. Her head throbbed. She opened her eyes and saw a bundle of white.

 _Aaaaah, curses, that stuff was important!_

Her giant pile of medical supplies had taken several large chunks of shrapnel in the line of duty. So gallant. She felt like...

Like it was important.

 _Why again?_

It wasn't important. What _was_ important was...

Was...

Tabitha!

Yes, Tabitha. And flying. Flying with Tabitha... was important? Obviously.

Her head throbbed. Something was wrong. There were cuts all over her, some even opened in her clothing. Not as bad as the time with the roses, though, but painful still.

She shifted her head, pushing past the ache and dizziness to figure out which garden...

Her eyes managed to focus again and it all came rushing back.

The medical satchel. The linens. Sylphid.

Albion.

Wardes.

" _Wardes..."_ she snarled.

The name filled her with loathing. Yes, this was _his_ doing.

 ** _"WARDES!"_**

Everything terrible in the world was his fault and she was overflowing with rage. She pushed herself to sitting and found the Founders Prayer Book close to her hand, splayed open to yet another blank page.

" _You._ You're in league with him, aren't you? _In league with_ **_WARDES!_** " She grabbed it roughly, intent on tearing it to shreds, but the shine of the Royal Signet Ring had her reeling back in pain, like a metal spike was being driven into her head. She grit her teeth. It couldn't struggle forever. "Defy me, will you!? I'll burn you to ashes and burn those again you... you..." She trailed off, fascinated at what was happening.

There, in a lazy looping script, words were appearing in the book. Words in a language she knew she had never seen but could nevertheless read, she realised with a start.

 _Lo, there comes a Child of the Spaces Between! The Void is the stuff between the motes and within. It suffuses all of existence. For you, my Heir, one with the audacity to take hold of this power, to master it and make it their own, this is my personal work. This is the Grimoire of Brimir. I bid you welcome._

The Prayer Book... Grimoire? Heresy? Not a prayer book but a book of spells. But that was the only text. She flipped back and forward. Blank. All blank. A book of spells with only an introduction in the middle.

"That's it? Why now, when I need to... I need to... Tabitha! Tabitha is fighting! If you're a spell book, give me a spell, dammit! I have to help her destroy _Wardes!"_

Somehow, that seemed to work, the previous message fading as a new one took its place. A spell.

A spell of Void.

When she spoke the aria aloud, it came in a cacophonous chorus of tongues she would later realise she didn't recognise.

"Across the great vastness, a single point..."

Her body moved on its own as she rose to her feet. She had never felt so _right!_ There was no doubt that this time, this spell would be a success. _This_ was how magic was supposed to feel!

"Three wheels, five sacraments, truth, temperance, seventeen pillars, the sign of the conqueror..."

Intoxicated by the energies coursing through her body, she reveled in the glow that spread from the energies she worked, undulating through colours that she couldn't even comprehend.

"Fangs of the north, horns of the south, awaken to my call!"

Arms spread wide, she was floating slightly off of the ground, a living conduit for the power of the Gods!

"Let collapse unto the unending dark..."

At this point, with the last shred of control, she desperately reached out through that intangible link she had with Tabitha and _pulled_ , willing her to retreat. The reassuring feeling of her knight already returning to her side was a major relief because there was no going back from this.

 **"SUNDER!"**

The final utterance was a word of _Power._ The sky seemed to _bend,_ cyclones of unnatural screaming fury touching down on the field of battle to draw a ragged line through the enemy ranks. Just when it looked like the sky was retreating and the spell was at an end, the pregnant expectations of the universe were finally granted reprieve as the sky's line burst. In an instant, there appeared a great rent in the earth, tossing bodies like rag dolls and dragging many more into the abyss.

Exhausted, head pounding, she tried to smile. It was magic! Real magic! But as the promontory of the fortress town began to float free of the main continent she couldn't help sinking into mute terror.

That was her magic.

And it was cataclysmic.

* * *

End Arc 2: What Heavals Must Up


End file.
